


Tales from Los Angeles

by flickerthenflare



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Future Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Romance, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:23:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickerthenflare/pseuds/flickerthenflare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Los Angeles production of South Pacific offers challenges and amazing career opportunities, as well as a mini-reunion among high school friends and semi-estranged brothers. Blaine Anderson is going to make the most of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Racism, sexism, language, sexual content, secondhand embarrassment, and some body issues.
> 
> Notes: This is a completed story that will be 12 chapters and roughly 50k words in total. A new chapter will be posted each Thursday. Special thanks to sightoftheshore and elvensorceress for reading through drafts and giving feedback.

Kurt breezes in like a tornado with a kiss to Blaine’s cheek and a million words a minute. Most Monday evenings begin like this: Kurt’s stories spilling out for his husband, caution and reserve lost for the person who knows him best. He drops groceries on the table, his bag by the door, and a kiss on Blaine’s cheek.

“I went a little off-course on family dinner because you mentioned an adobo craving the other night, so I found a chicken adobo recipe on Food Network’s website, and who knows how it’ll turn out, but I thought it would be fun to try even if it doesn’t taste like you think it will, and we’ll only find a good one if we keep trying. We need to pre-heat the oven right away if we want to eat before midnight.”

Blaine accepts the kiss and holds onto Kurt before he can flit away. They both sway under Kurt’s force.

“Hold on a moment, Kurt. Can we set aside some rational adult conversation time?”

Kurt lets himself be held still. His eyes dart to his abandoned groceries only for a moment. “I suppose, but we’ll need a cheesy 90s sing-along after to shake it off. Too much time as a rational adult is hell on my anti-aging routine.”

Kurt’s words are intentionally light. They have truth times more often now that they know the consequences of the alternative, but they’re still hard work and tend to bring Blaine’s insecurities to the surface.

“Deal.” Blaine slides his grip from Kurt’s side to Kurt’s hand. He always wants to hold onto Kurt for their big conversations, and he doesn’t fight himself this time.

“If this is a _Real Housewives_ binge-watching intervention, I promise I’ll stick to watching it when you’re not around and I will never again suggest we watch an episode during dinner.”

Blaine doesn’t laugh, even with the generous pause Kurt gives for him to do so. His mind is already on what he wants to say. He made himself a mental script and rehearsed it.

“So.” Blaine pauses to steady himself so his next words come out perfectly composed. “I got a call for _South Pacific_. A good call. I thought they wanted me to be part of the chorus, but they offered me the lead.”

Kurt squints for a moment.

“The lead? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who’s in _South Pacific_.” Blaine tilts his head with a little smirk he can’t help and waits for Kurt to catch on. He may not be a conventional choice for the role, but Kurt should be able to figure it out.

Kurt thinks a moment longer and recovers, squealing, “Oh, oh, Lieutenant Cable! Oh, that’s great! I didn’t think…but that’s great!” Kurt grins harder than Blaine does. He bounces in Blaine’s grasp. “I didn’t realize Lieutenant Cable was a part you wanted.”

“Of course I do - it’s the lead. Well, besides Nellie and the old guy I don’t have the range for. Cooper’s high school production of _South Pacific_ was my theatrical debut, so it’s a nice full circle moment to come back to it, you know? It got me into theatre, and it could start something big for me.” He suspects June Dalloway pulled some strings to get him cast, and he's too pleased to question the not-quite nepotism. “And guess who is playing Liat.”

“You’re double cast in both parts to fall in love with yourself? That will be a hard coup de theatre to add a subtle touch to, but I believe in your ability to sell anything.”

Blaine chuckles nervously, realizes his nerves are showing, and quickly forces out, “Tina! We’re talking about…well, we’ll get to see each other more with this production, and how nice that will be.”

Kurt regards Blaine suspiciously. “You don’t sound excited enough.”

“There’s more,” Blaine admits. “It hasn’t been announced yet, so you can’t tell, okay?”

Kurt nods eagerly. He’ll agree to anything in exchange for gossip.

“Casting is going for a mix of big names and lesser known talent. Working alongside _this_ lesser known talent will be a certain country-turned-pop star whose album I wore out in 2014.”

“Do you mean…? Lead with that!” Kurt practically jumps over himself.

“Over how I got the part?” Blaine can’t help a proud smile through his nerves. The attention on her will be good for him. Kurt will see how tempting this opportunity is. “We get to sing a duet.”

“I’d be so jealous if it wasn’t you. You’re going to let me meet her, right? You’re not going to insist I be a professional? I might _die_.” Kurt pauses for a moment. “Why aren’t you excited? Why don’t you expect me to be excited? This is big, but so far it doesn’t merit your ‘rational adult conversation’ request.”

Blaine winces in advance. "It's in LA, _but_ it's a limited engagement." 

"How long?" A beat and a softened expression later, Kurt amends, "Still happy for you! But how long?"

"You won't even miss me. A few weeks of rehearsal for a special one night only performance in one of their giant arenas.”

Kurt’s smile stays on, but he stops bouncing all over the place. "All that way to do theatre. You know what they do here?"

"The people of LA need culture, too! They just don't always know it. Plenty of Broadway-esque shows are out there. Mercedes and Rachel have their out of town tryout in LA right now, for example. We could see them. And Tina has already talked to Artie about filming a ‘making-of’ documentary since he’s looking for a new project. Which is crazy, right? Think of how much Cooper will love that.”

“So you’ve decided.” It’s not a question.

Blaine nods. “Yes.” He holds his composure while he waits for Kurt to respond. They've been at these crossroads before. He wants the role bad enough that he’s willing to accept Kurt’s disappointment, but he’s not built for disappointing anyone.

Kurt holds his arms out for a hug. “You are going to be the cutest Lieutenant Cable ever.”

“Don’t tell Cooper that.”

“I will _especially_ tell Cooper that, but as a kindness to you on your LA visit, I will wait until after your performance and you’re ready to come home.”

“That will make living with him easier. I haven’t asked,” Blaine adds before Kurt can ask, “but he’ll like having a live-in audience, and instead of a crappy hotel for a couple weeks, _we_ could get a nice one for a couple of nights. Or, really, an average hotel and a round trip plane ticket for you to come see me.”

Kurt smiles at the thought. “I’ll figure out when.”

***

Blaine contacts his brother about the show next. Logistically, ensuring housing in Los Angeles should have been his first goal, but making plans before letting Kurt know, even with his mind made up, didn't seem fair to Kurt. Making plans with Tina didn't count: she called him and forced plans upon him. 

After all these years, reaching out to Cooper still makes Blaine nervous. Sometimes Cooper is thrilled to talk, and sometimes he answers but treats Blaine like a nuisance. Blaine hopes for the former. He calculates that yes, it is a reasonable time to call the west coast before hitting the dial button and leaving Kurt watching the oven for the privacy of their room.

"Little bro!” Cooper greets right when Blaine thinks the call will go to voicemail. “You'll never believe the day I had. I'll tell you all about it if you aren't looking for a shoulder to cry on. Fair warning: you’re going to be consumed with jealousy."

"I'm coming to LA for a few weeks!" Blaine’s excitement bubbles without being impeded by the worry he felt when letting Kurt know.

"Get out, that’s crazy-pants awesome!" Blaine can imagine Cooper’s fist pump. "I've been telling you for years that LA is where it's at! You're going to learn so much. I'm going to teach you so much."

"So do you mind if I stay with you?"

"It'll be epic. Are you kidding?" 

Blaine grins. He hoped for this response. "That’s great! Thanks, Coop. We haven't spent more than a few days together since that week you visited when I was in high school. I think it'll be cool for us to reconnect, you know?"

Five years ago, on one of Cooper’s infrequent trips back to their childhood home in Ohio, they reached a turning point, and not as much came of it as Blaine would like. It cleared the air, but it didn’t make them closer. They’ve been 3,000 miles apart and busy chasing their artistic dreams, with occasional reunions over holidays if they don’t have other commitments. Blaine has never even seen Cooper’s house in person.

"We’ll have time for once,” Cooper agrees. “What's the show?"

" _South Pacific_. That’s another reason why I wanted to talk, since you’ve been in it so many times. I was hoping you’d have some tips, since I won’t just be playing the cute little kid this time." Although Cooper had plenty of tips back in Cooper’s high school version too. As Jerome, one of Emile’s two half-Polynesian kids essential to furthering Nellie and Emile’s plot, Blaine didn’t share any scenes with Cooper’s Lieutenant Cable, so Cooper was fine with helping Blaine pull focus. Blaine and the girl who played his sister had their high school gymnasium audience eating out of their tiny hands.

"There's an LA production of _South Pacific_ I haven't heard of? Have they cast the leads yet? Who are you? Henri?" 

"Cable!" Blaine needs to stop letting people guess. He’s pretty sure Henri is the name of the local servant with only a few spoken lines.

The line goes silent for a beat.

"You still there, Coop?"

"Ah, they're going with unconventional casting. Cool, cool. Well, I guess as they say, there are no small parts that aren't for small actors, but small actors aren't always for small parts."

"Is that a height or an industry experience joke?"

"Look at you asking the difficult questions! I taught you that. And it has layers. The clever thing is it works on multiple levels. It’s both a you’re too tiny to be the lead joke and a how the fuck did you pull this off joke." 

Blaine is in a good enough mood that he just laughs at Cooper being Cooper and dispensing nonsensical "wisdom." The height difference is the smallest it has been since Cooper got his 10-year head start, but Cooper continues to insist his little brother is tiny. Either it's Hollywood standards’ obsession with the few inches between them, or Cooper refuses to see him any differently than he always has. 

“See, you’ll have even more to teach me this way. You’ve played Lieutenant Cable, what, five times?” Blaine will sit through a Cooper Anderson Master Class in how to squeeze even more drama into a dramatic role if it means spending time with his brother.

"Listen, I've gotta go,” Cooper says abruptly. “My agent has been slacking. My career has been so stellar lately that she forgets to work. I've got to go make some magic happen on my own. Laters, okay?" 

"Oh, already?  Right. Okay.” He got a few good minutes at least. “We'll talk more when we plan this trip. I’m really looking forward to it, Coop.” 

The line goes silent. Cooper is already gone.

***

No appliances whirl, no neighbors thump, and no street chatter filters up to the apartment to explain why Blaine wakes too early. The ear pressed to Kurt’s chest can hear his heart beat steadily, but Kurt makes no other sound. For a New York City night, it’s almost too quiet. All Blaine can blame is his noisy worry that gets louder the closer he gets to his flight out. He should say something about the cause before he leaves so the worry doesn't eat at him the entire time he's gone, but he has waited until the last possible day and now it won’t let him sleep. Worry, and guilt for worrying, gnaw at his insides.

Blaine rolls away from his usual spot wrapped around Kurt and stares at the ceiling he can’t see. The alarm is nowhere close to going off yet, but Blaine knows Kurt is awake too. The downside of tangling in their sleep is one can’t wake without the other. The confession threatens to spill. It’s too big. There are too many other questions that go with it. What worries are real and what ones are a function of late night and travel jitters?

Kurt makes a noise that’s part questioning and part sleepy whine.

“What if I like it too much?” Blaine asks into the dark. He hopes that Kurt fell back asleep, but he hopes even harder that he heard.

“Los Angeles?” Kurt yawns.

“Yeah.” Kurt _loves_ New York. NYC was part of the Kurt Hummel package: Kurt talked about Blaine moving there to be with him when they were barely more than puppy love, before they exchanged I love yous for the first time. Blaine hasn't been unhappy –the last three years have seen him thrive in a program at NYU Tisch that suits him better and with a support network he built – but he envies the glow the city gives Kurt. Blaine’s favorite place in the world burnt to the ground, and he couldn't stay there forever anyway.

“What if you don’t like it at all?” Kurt asks back.

“Being unhappy for a few weeks isn’t the worst thing.” Blaine has been unhappy longer for less. He doesn’t want to _cause_ their unhappiness. Kurt makes him glow, so he should be content where Kurt is. But the fantasies about doors opening for him in LA – fantasies that he never thought to dream up before – keep coming. “We can kick butt at the distance for the next few weeks now that we know everything _not_ to do. We’ll take the road not taken and be fine. But what about what comes next?”

Kurt huffs and for a moment Blaine thinks he went back to sleep.

“Don’t dare act like getting your big break could possibly be a bad thing.” Kurt kisses Blaine’s forehead. His aim in the dark is surprisingly good from all their practice. "It's still a theatre role. That means plenty of opportunities that could open up right here. And if bicoastal commuting was good enough for Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka..." 

It sounds so easy when Kurt says it. Get the big break first, and figure out the rest later. If it’s just a little break, will it be worth it? How will he know where any opportunity could lead, what the magnitude will be?

Blaine listens to the quiet and wills himself to stop getting so far ahead of where he is. With the entertainment industry being what it is, he never knows what will come, but he’s particularly aware of the fact now.

Kurt breaks the palpable silence with, “Close your eyes.”

Blaine blinks at light flooding the room, disoriented by sudden brightness in the middle of the night, as Kurt flicks on the bedside lamp.

Kurt offers his hand. “Everything seems better in the light. C’mon, we’re making you warm milk.”

“But I don’t like…” Blaine’s may think warm milk tastes like scalded sugar cereal residue, but it comforts Kurt, and he wants to be where Kurt is, so he stops protesting, kicks off the covers, and follows.

Kurt fusses in the kitchen while Blaine hovers behind him with a hand on Kurt’s waist. Blaine’s worries fade with the shadows. What might be can’t spook him so easily when he can see what’s right in front of him.

"I worry too," Kurt admits so softly Blaine almost doesn't catch it despite the short distance between them. "It's hard, and we've failed before, and I don't know what kind of work I could find in a place known for its glitz and glam instead of its weirdos." 

Blaine shakes his head in affectionate disbelief. "Of all the things to worry about, you finding work is not one of them. You're incredible, Kurt. People would kill for your range."

Kurt’s lip quirks. "Well, worrying about us is silly, too."

"You just said we've failed before."

"And I've bombed auditions. You still believe in me."

In years past, Blaine would trip over himself to reassure Kurt of his faith in them, but Kurt is making a point, not doubting them. Blaine doesn’t have to panic or cling too tight to let his feelings be known.

"I believe in us too. I'm not saying I don't. I know you'll still love me if I'm inconvenient. Worrying like this isn’t rationale; it’s just the way I feel." Especially when it’s late and night and he prepares to fly across the country in the morning.

Kurt sets out two mugs next to his saucepan. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg grows stronger, sweet and cloying.

“I think getting job offers that scare us is part of the fun,” Kurt muses while he stirs and then pours. He turns to Blaine with his offering. “This is the best kind of terrifying.”

“It’ll be fine in the morning,” Blaine agrees. It’s fading already. “It’ll all be an adventure again.” At least now he won’t have the guilt of keeping his worry to himself. Blaine politely sips at the mug Kurt hands him until he can get Kurt to drink it for him. Warm milk may not soothe him, or even taste good, but the ritual of it comforts him as much as Kurt now. The mug warms his hands and his eyelids grow heavy. When he lets it past his lips, it warms him from inside. He closes his eyes, more ready for sleep while on his feet in the wrong place than lying in bed moments before.

“What do you need?” Kurt asks.

Blaine props his head in his hands and adoringly takes Kurt in with slow, sleepy blinks. At the moment, he doesn’t feel needy.

“Besides rest,” Kurt teases to draw out something other than silence.

“Um. As much attention as you can stand to give.” Which isn’t new to them, or surprising, but still hard to admit because it sounds like too much. He works on asking for what he needs for both their sakes.

“That I can do.” Kurt pulls Blaine’s half-full mug over to him with a cheeky grin and drains it. He deposits the mugs in the sink, flicks off the kitchen light, and closes the distance between them.

The light in their bedroom is enough to guide them back. Kurt urges Blaine forward, following on his heels. Kurt’s lips slide against the base of Blaine’s neck in sleepy, barely-there kisses of encouragement.

Blaine leans back and then stands still against Kurt’s forward motion. “Do you need anything?” Kurt is less obvious in his needs. He doesn’t get lonely as easily. Blaine can forget that less obvious doesn’t mean nonexistent.

“Maybe. I’ll let you know. Right now, sleep.”

Blaine left his doubts back in their bedroom, and he’s reticent to return. He turns to face Kurt with Kurt’s hands still on him. His fingers ghost over Kurt’s, splayed on Blaine’s ribs, and nudge them lower to say what he would normally say with a hopeful look. “Help me get there?”

Kurt’s lips are more insistent and inaccurate than a moment before, which isn’t an answer, but Blaine thinks it bodes well for him. Blaine slides his fingers along both sides of Kurt’s jaw to guide him into lingering slips of tongue and teeth. He wants to be as close as possible while they can. Blaine tastes Kurt’s comfort on his tongue.

Blaine drops backward to the couch like a trust fall and reaches for Kurt like they’re never close enough.

Kurt follows just as easily. He slings a leg over Blaine’s hips and steadies himself against Blaine’s chest, his fingers slipping through the gaps between buttons and sliding. “Thank goodness I’m not the only one who wants to problem solve through sex. I thought it was just me.”

Blaine laughs and then gasps as Kurt presses them together. They shift in the narrow space. Cushions and throw pillows fly. They move each other until they fit comfortable and contained. The couch sighs with them.

“Don’t fall,” Kurt teases. One leg dangles off. “Are we going to be grossed out later by getting down and dirty on the couch now?”

“Hasn’t happened yet.” Blaine’s eyes are on Kurt’s lips.

They fumble just fine despite the dark. Blaine’s imagination is strong enough to fill in the shadows. They toss bedclothes aside to find in the light of day. Blaine works quickly to get at Kurt. Kurt moves slower. Despite their years together, Kurt still appreciates Blaine’s body like it’s new to him. Languid. Unhurried. Kurt skims and squeezes where he bares Blaine like he’s making a memory. Blaine’s skin goosebumps in the cool night air.

“Don’t make it feel like goodbye,” Blaine pleads. Kurt is too sweet: Blaine has the patience but not emotional capacity for it right now. Blaine’s lips find Kurt’s neck. He kisses and slides. It’s like a cheat code to get to the next level of a game. Kurt jolts with it. His foot hits Blaine’s shin.

Blaine uses the jolt to slip between their hips and stroke Kurt through his halfway undone pajama bottoms.

“Unless you want to go again, you’re not convincing me to speed up.” Kurt’s voice is light and fond. Kurt captures Blaine’s wrist and stops his teasing fingers. “It’s not goodbye. It’s I’m going to miss you. And you better miss me.”

Under Kurt’s guidance, Blaine’s fingers meet Kurt’s lips and Kurt sucks, wicked and promising. Nips and swirls from the pads of his fingers to his palms. Blaine’s little whines of anticipation escape. The quiet night is quiet no more. Not when Kurt touches him. Not when they move together.

“So much.” Blaine breathes. “I will.”

The questioning noise in the back of Kurt’s throat at the answer he forgot the question to pitches higher. Blaine forgets too.

“Kurt…” He whines again. Kurt’s lips and teeth and tongue have explored all of Blaine’s captured hand, leaving him slick. He can guess what comes next. It’s hot – too hot – hot enough to make him squirm, his legs stretching and flexing underneath Kurt. He can’t survive much more teasing. He wants every part of him closer to Kurt. Gravity works against him, but he bucks up anyway.

Kurt changes from settled to straddling, enjoying his tease too much to let Blaine have his way yet. “I’m loving you thoroughly. It has to last.”

“Can’t you just love me haphazardly multiple times? Wasn’t that an option?” Blaine rolls his hips. He knocks him and Kurt sideways, landing easily with Kurt pressing against the couch back, leverage now to no one’s advantage.

Kurt’s eyes give away his thrill at the turn of events with the turn of their bodies. Kurt kicks his pajamas down the rest of the way and mostly succeeds in not kicking Blaine. With a pop, Kurt finally releases the hand he’s having his way with and guides it between them.

Kurt holds on while they kiss through Blaine’s relief and Kurt’s smug satisfaction. Fingers touch reverently from cheek to jaw to the nape of Blaine’s neck, careful not to sink any further into slicked down hair. For all his insistence that it not feel like a goodbye, Blaine touches just as reverently, thrilling as Kurt’s eyes roll back or he becomes too distracted to continue. Even if they do pick up the pace, Kurt looking at him like he’s a revelation is always going to overwhelm Blaine.

When it becomes too much, too close, Blaine squeezes his eyes shut and Kurt pants against Blaine’s cheek.

Blaine’s breath thunders in his ears when they break apart. Worries about what their future will look like can’t compete. The peace he’s been looking for settles over him. All that is left on his mind is awareness of the pleasant buzz through his limbs that has him wiggling his toes and humming without a tune. He bumps them against Kurt’s calf. Blaine is going to miss this even if it is only a few weeks. His favorite way of feeling centered again. Their most familiar way of reconnecting or making amends or letting the other feel cherished. They’ll have to rely on other means.

Kurt’s rhythmic breathing lulls Blaine until his matches. They should move soon, but Blaine’s limbs drop and have no interest in doing anything but wrapping around Kurt. Kurt nuzzles into the crook of Blaine’s neck.

Only after Blaine dozes for a while does Kurt convince Blaine to move to their bed under threat of sleeping alone. Kurt brushes his nose against Blaine’s. “Let’s work on this following where the other goes thing, honey. I’m getting up. That’ means you’re coming with me.”

The worries Blaine left there don’t visit him again. Kurt doesn’t sprawl like Blaine does as they settle back in together. They touch at the edges, Kurt tucked into Blaine’s side. Lightly, reassuringly there.

***

When it’s actually morning, not the wee hours of the night brought to them by Blaine’s overactive worry, Tina texts.

**Tina:** _Today’s the day! (9:57 AM)_

A thrill runs through Blaine. The same thrill that has grown more intense the whole morning while he gets ready. The adventure is about to begin. Today, the excitement outweighs the nervousness of the night before. Today he gets to know what to actually expect from this new chapter in his life.

In their bedroom, Kurt packs Blaine’s suitcase for him, possibly to prove how fine he is with the upcoming distance between them. He shoos away Blaine’s every attempt at helping. Blaine doesn’t know what he’ll have with him in LA, but he assumes Kurt will have him over-prepared.

Since Kurt won’t let him help, Blaine takes the extra time to preen post-shower in their adjoining bathroom. He shaves more carefully than he has since he first learned how. After a glance toward Kurt to make sure he isn’t watching, Blaine plucks at the few hairs on his sternum threatening to make a comeback from his latest waxing. It’s a never-ending battle to get his body close to resembling what he wants it to. Next, he tames his damp hair into perfection.

Blaine’s phone rings and he answers it after a moment of fumbling to get gel off his hands and puts it on speaker. “Hello?”

Tina’s cheerful voice floods the room. “Text message didn’t seem like enough. Today’s the day!”

“Today’s the day,” Blaine agrees more softly, but with just as much warmth. He hasn’t seen her in so long, unless Skype sessions count. Whatever happens in LA, at least they’ll have each other for support.

“Take that, practical education! I’m going to be an actor!”

Blaine resists teasing about film studies at Brown as a practical enterprise, especially when it led to starring in her classmates’ projects as soon as they realized Tina was just as comfortable in front of a camera as behind, propelling her to stardom multiple times over in the Ivy League film circuit. Blaine considered Columbia a backup school, so he has no room to talk about whether Ivy League is really the way to go when the siren call of the arts will always lure them back. It’s an unconventional path, but it works for her. “I’m so looking forward to dropping the ‘aspiring’ in front of ‘actor/singer/dancer’ when I talk about what I do.”

“Speaking of aspiring, Artie would like to stress that we’re not allowed to do anything until he get to the airport with his camera and gets his shot. He had this whole speech I’m not going to relay about beginning at our descent and we’ll just have to fake it if he’s late.”

“Noted.” The mention of cameras makes Blaine’s insides squirm. All that time he’ll have to perform for an unknown audience, never knowing how closely he’ll be watched. He reaches for moisturizer next. “Who do you think I am in Artie’s film vision?”

Tina doesn’t even hesitate. “Eye candy.”

“Seriously, Tina. We have to be somehow interesting. No one will care otherwise.”

“You’re _loads_ interesting.” Kurt’s eyes crinkle visibly from across the room as he objects. He is an expert at inviting himself into other people’s conversations.

Tina scoffs. “No one will care anyway. That’s how documentaries work. Trust me. He’s signing on for his own amusement and because it gives him a free pass on not having tact when it comes to other people’s art. We’re agreeing because we like the attention. Don’t read too much into it.”

“But am I there to be unintentionally ridiculous? Are you taking bets on how long until there’s another twerking incident? He has a plan.” Through the power of editing, Artie can make Blaine whoever he wants him to be. Someone else having that much control over his image makes him nervous, even if Artie is a friend. No matter how composed Blaine is every time he's on camera, one unflattering moment could be what Artie chooses to represent him.

Blaine adds another layer of moisturizer just in case.

“Rather than obsess, which we all know is your default, you could just try _not_ being perfect,” Tina says.

Blaine shakes his head. Tina and Kurt do wonders for his ego. They’re both selective enough with who they bother to flatter than Blaine preens when they choose to direct it toward him.

“I’m serious. We’ll have far more fun if you aren’t obsessing over who you think you need to be. None of the rest of us are going to look perfect either. If it’s going to bother you, give yourself permission to ease up a little. Don’t drive yourself crazy performing 24/7 for a camera.”

“It better not be there 24/7.” Blaine can’t stay on for that long. No one can have a constant audience and always look good.

“Look, you’ll still be dreamy if you’re less uptight,” Tina says.

“Keep going on about how perfect he is, Tina: Blaine’s making the cutest face!” Kurt calls, leaning toward the phone to more effectively butt in. “As long as you don’t stroke anything besides his ego.”

“God, Kurt, let it go,” Tina groans. “You’ve crossed over from clever to predictable.” Neither of their jabs holds any heat.

Kurt beckons Blaine over to their bed where he’s packing. He mimics that Blaine should offer his cheek and angles his own phone until they’re both in frame for a selfie. When the camera clicks, Blaine is met with Kurt’s tongue instead of his lips.

“ _Kuuurt._ That’s not how kissing works.” Blaine wipes at his cheek with a pout.

“Um, what are you two up to and how quickly do I need to hang up?” Tina asks.

Kurt apologetically kisses Blaine’s cheek in the same spot. “I licked him, so he’s mine. I’m sending you proof.”

Blaine waves his hand with a wedding ring and points with the other in a “Single Ladies” imitation.

“Also a good reminder.” Kurt kisses there too.

Tina groans. “You’re both ridiculous. I’m hanging up.”

“See you soon,” Blaine calls. The dial tone sounds in response.

Blaine’s fingers slide naturally along Kurt’s jaw to lead him into a second, lingering kiss that puts Kurt’s tongue to much better use. He told himself not to do long goodbyes. If they make out early enough in the day, it doesn’t count as a goodbye. It’s just them appreciating each other.

“You’re going to get us both in trouble,” Kurt tuts when he pulls away breathless. “We have important things to do today.”

“You _licked_ me.”

Kurt’s eyes sparkle. There’s the obvious innuendo-laden comeback he doesn’t say aloud but smirks at anyway.

They do not have time for what they’re promising each other. Blaine lets Kurt go with one last kiss.

“I put my rent check on the fridge, and a reminder in your calendar so you send it in on time. Don’t forget to go grocery shopping for yourself. The contents of our freezer won’t last the whole time.” Left on his own, with no one to impress with his cooking capabilities, Kurt would just life off smoothies and ice cream. “Maybe you should invite Santana and Brittany over, or have a curry night with Elliott.”

Kurt sways in Blaine’s arms. “You don’t have to make play-dates for me.”

“You’ll like the quiet, I know.” Once he’s gone, Blaine suspects sewing projects will take over all available surfaces and Kurt will marathon all the shows Blaine won’t watch with him. Blaine is the chief coordinator of their social life. Kurt appreciates friends but also solitude, and sometimes solitude wins. “I’m not saying have people over all the time, just sometimes to get you out of your own head. Even if it is the most fascinating place we both know.”

Blaine leans in for another kiss, completely willing to be excessive about his affection, but Kurt dances out of Blaine’s arms. “Hold on. I have to text this picture to Tina.”

Blaine takes Kurt’s moment of distraction to sneak a peak at what he’s taking with him.

“Ready?” Kurt catches him and forces Blaine’s suitcase shut with a flourish.

“More than.” Blaine’s eyes crinkle as he takes in the overstuffed suitcase. Tina is set to meet up with him during a layover so they can finish the trip together. Artie has their itineraries and a film crew lined up for their LAX arrival. Cooper knows to expect them. Mercedes and Rachel have plans to catch up later. Blaine’s flight isn’t for a few hours, but Kurt has to go to work as the cutest chorus boy in all of off-Broadway. Blaine has all that time to fill and nothing to do but anticipate what’s to come once he touches down in LA.

Kurt tips the suitcase upright. "The great thing about being surrounded by all new people is you can try out a different version of yourself. You’ll have a brand new city, and Cooper and Tina know you, but they see you, what, a couple times each year? They expect you to change each time they see you.”

Blaine can picture Kurt trying out new roles and making a game of it, and Cooper uses restaurants to try out accents and personas, but Blaine doesn’t consciously pick who he’s going to be. It’s subconscious reflex that he becomes the version of himself that he expects his audience will like best, like an uncool superpower after being bitten by an eager to please superspider.

“You won't have me around to remind you of this version,” Kurt adds. 

"I like me with you." He reassures. “I like _me_.” Which is a triumph in itself. He knows who he is with Kurt.

Kurt smiles. "Good, because you're not allowed to change either of those. But, you know, we’re still young. You're allowed to experiment and grow and be something other than the person you’ve always been. If you want to try out being a beach bum, or like a chill surfer, or like some non-stereotypical California thing, you can.”

"What did you pack me to work with?" Blaine reaches for his suitcase.

Kurt intercepts him with a coy smile. 

“Kurt. Are you dressing me like a cartoon? I can’t show up each day dressed like I’m doing some walk of shame from last night’s roleplay.”

“You can peek once I’m gone. Okay? But I’m not turning around in 15 minutes if you can’t figure out how to get it closed again.” Kurt keeps his goodbye kiss quick with the same off-center smack Blaine gets each time they part. “Miss you.”

“Love you!” Blaine calls after him.

Blaine briefly idles in the apartment, but lingering only makes him realize what he’ll miss. He feels better when he’s in motion. Out of habit, Blaine rounds through the apartment before leaving. He has no way of knowing if he has everything he needs in the suitcase Kurt packed, so he just savors one last look at the place he and Kurt have called home for the past three years. He resists peeking at the suitcase’s mysterious contents - he’ll let Kurt surprise him – and instead shows up at the airport early. His spirit lifts as soon as he wheels his suitcase inside.

New York has been kind to Kurt, and Blaine has grown to love pieces of it, but maybe Los Angeles could be the city that has something big to offer _him._ Maybe all the sprawling space will give him room to grow.

Blaine likes the idea of picking who he’ll be for himself. He’ll be a little less controlling. A little more self-assured – maybe as much as he pretends to be. Be a newer, better version of himself. The guy who got the part. A real, professional part. He’s not just the best person in his school, or the best 15-18 year old within driving distance and willing to embarrass themself for cash, or the best for small town community theatre. He is the person they picked out of everyone they could think of, in a production high caliber enough to contract a country/pop music sensation. The attention on the show’s stars isn't meant for him, but it's not finely honed enough to pass him by completely. He'll be seen. This is the part that will establish who he is as an actor. There’s no better time to be the best version of himself.

Blaine’s feet dance on the way to his gate. LA already offered him his first big role, and who knows what else will come. He's giddy on possibilities. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cooper all but flings the door open and smiles at Artie’s camera so hard it hurts. The light from the house floods behind him like a spotlight.

“Welcome to my humble abode. I’m the dashing older brother, but I’m sure you’ve heard all about me.” Every move is large. Every word is projected to the whole of West Hollywood. Cooper tucks Blaine under his arm in a sideways hug facing the camera, making Blaine stumble under the force of the embrace and the weight of Cooper leaning on him like a prop. He quickly recovers with a grin and a tight grip. Blaine seems even tinier in comparison as he looks up to his big brother.

“Yeah, we’ve met.” Artie scoffs as Tina pushes him the rest of the way up the ramp they set up over Cooper’s front steps. His scoff fades when Cooper directs his grin above the camera to Artie himself. 

“And hot houseguest!”

“We’ve also met,” Tina says with none of Artie’s skepticism.

Blaine more than makes up for it. “Please, Cooper, she’s my best friend.”

“And you’re my brother, so quit pouting when I say she’s hotter than you.” Cooper bops his little brother’s nose. “Don’t worry, we're going to get you to a beach, stat, and you’ll find yourself a much less uptight person. Or at least we’ll get you to a pool. Experience the sunny side of the world. How many times have you been jealous that it's 70 degrees and I'm poolside while the only thing you have a chance of drowning in is 8 million people's BO?"

"The pool will be nice," Blaine admits. He has been looking forward to the pool for almost as long as he has been looking forward to this trip. After a long day and a long flight, lounging in a pool sounds heavenly. Pure excitement keeps him on his feet. 

"You're welcome." Cooper winks for either Artie’s or his camera’s benefit – likely the camera’s but Blaine wouldn’t put either past him. To Blaine, Cooper says, “We’ll give you back to Kurt as a completely different person.”

“Are we starting on an east coast/west coast rivalry already?” Tina asks.

“We’re not ‘ _90s rappers_. Although I do have hip-hop listed on my admittedly impressive résumé, I’m much better at blue-eyed soul.”

Cooper bats his eyes. Blaine resists wrinkling his nose. He misses Cooper enough that he can accept Cooper’s ridiculousness fondly, but the topic of résumés will end in Cooper coercing Blaine to update his special skills with trapeze because he watched a YouTube video on it once, or baton-twirling because Kurt could teach him before he ever would need to know. Best to steer clear of revamped résumés until Blaine has a chance to spread his serious one around Los Angeles.

Cooper nods toward the car they parked in his driveway and whistles. “A mini-cooper for the mini-Cooper, huh? When you go for a joke, you really commit to it.”

Blaine glances back toward the rental car. It’s little, sporty, bright canary yellow, more fun than sensible, and _perfect_. Tina graciously let Blaine pick the model since Blaine will keep the car when Kurt arrives and they stay in a hotel instead of at Cooper’s. He completely forgot about the old nickname. He isn’t defined by his relationship to Cooper anymore.

Artie smirks from behind his camera and huffs “mini-cooper” to himself like he’s just now getting the joke.

“It’s a little much, but, hey, I’m flattered you’re flattered still.” Cooper says.

“Mmm, I forget there’s someone walking around like a taller, hotter version of you.” Tina directs her comment toward Blaine, but it’s for Cooper’s benefit. She fans herself in a move borrowed from Santana. Blaine half expects her to tack “wanky” on the end.  

“Excuse me?” If Tina is going talk about his looks, Blaine much prefers when it’s about how cute he is.

“Hotter only because he’s attainable.” Tina pats comfortingly at Blaine’s wedding ring. “And ripped. You can’t get mad at the taller thing: that’s all on you.”

With a delighted smirk, Cooper lifts the hem of his shirt to prove Tina’s point with a gesture toward his abs. Blaine rolls his eyes. He supposes Cooper’s neighbors are used to the scene they’re making on the porch.

“Hollywood Blaine. I can work with that,” Artie says.

“Oh, I can too. I get a lot of work with it.” Cooper tosses his hair as he laughs at his own joke. Tina and Artie watch transfixed.

“He’s like the guy who plays Blaine in the made-for-TV movie about his life, all polished up for a wide viewing audience.” Artie’s heteroflexibility is usually reserved for Blaine, but he looks ready to fall out of his chair at Cooper’s feet.

“Sorry for the predictable whitewashing,” Tina adds.

Old instinct at seeing his friends fawning over Cooper has Blaine wanting to burst into song or climb on furniture to bring attention back to him. Artie and Tina are not shy about calling Blaine handsome, and usually without resentment or ulterior motive, but next to Cooper, none of that matters. “Why can’t I play me in my made-for-TV movie? And why would I be played by someone older?”

“Watch it, Squirt!” Cooper points so dramatically he almost bops Blaine’s nose. “Perception is reality. When you look like you’re chiseled from marble, no one thinks about how old you are.”

“Stand side by side,” Artie directs.

“We literally just did that,” Blaine protests mildly. “You have it on film. We arrived, we hugged, we all know Cooper is taller than me.”

“Tina wants to swim in _this_ pool,” Cooper teases. A beat later, he over-clarifies with, “And by that I mean our gene pool.”

“We got it, Coop,” Blaine says.

“Dive right in.” Cooper winks at her.

“Or we could just _not_ diveanywhere and… go inside with the very inviting air conditioning.”

“Don’t worry, Blaine, we’ll talk about how you’re pretty too,” Tina says.

"Stare too long and perceptions on the attractiveness of mankind will be warped," Artie warns. He tugs at his high-necked collar. 

“Cmon, Napoleon, it’ll be cute.” Tina steers a very-willing-to-be-manhandled Cooper by Blaine’s side and nudging them both into the spotlight created by the light from inside pouring out into the dark night. “Let us appreciate the resemblance.”

Blaine tilts his chin. He already knows how to catalogue all the differences between them: his slimmer build but thicker thighs and calves, his darker coloring from hair to eyes to skin, his smoothed curls that don’t fool anyone into thinking he has straight hair. Cooper has always been Blaine’s closest point of comparison, and having different dads – or, really, a completely nonexistent dad in Cooper’s case – never stops strangers/friends/distant family from marveling at how they look either so much alike or completely unrelated. Blaine never knows which statement bothers him more. Blaine likes his brother and, superficially, who wouldn’t want to look like Cooper? And being told he doesn’t look like Cooper leaves him feeling less than, but he also wants to look like himself. With a lot of effort, he’s comfortable with his looks. He knows what designers he looks good in. Kurt has murmured odes to Blaine’s thighs into them until Blaine blushes with pride and appreciation. Blaine has a stepstool at home and no qualms about climbing on the counters. He isn’t unhappy in his own skin. He forgets when he’s next to Cooper, but he won’t forget this time.

Tina chuckles after looking at them for a moment. “And you’re mini-Cooper still. Did you pick the car because it’s cute and compact?”

Before the short jokes become too predictable, Blaine steers the conversation elsewhere.

“It’s gorgeous here, Coop. There’s something about palm trees that just….” Blaine shrugs and grins happily. Even the air feels different. “It’s magical. I made a list of everywhere I want to visit while here so we can make sure to do it all. We should see Sunset Boulevard. Or the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”

Cooper’s eyeroll is the most dramatic Blaine has seen, even with the high bar set by Kurt. "It’s the worst."

Blaine frowns. "You love the Walk of Fame."

"Hacks."

"Cooper!"

"Apparently being the face of a nationally beloved advertising campaign that gives the Dos Equis guy a run for his money isn't enough of a résumé builder to earn a star on the walk." Cooper tosses his perfect hair and scoffs. “ _Most Interesting Man_ my chiseled ass _._ I’ll show them who the _Most Interesting Man_ is, and it’s not some white haired fart who’s predictably into drinking and threesomes.”

"You can pick out where you want your star to be. I've always wanted that," Tina says. “I’d want my star near Carol Burnett’s.”

Cooper gives her an appraising look. “Me too! Fine. We’ll go in the morning as motivation for your rehearsal. But first, a tour!”

Tina pushes in front of both Artie and Blaine to be near Cooper as Cooper finally leads them inside, and Blaine rolls his eyes. Almost everyone in his life has had a crush on Cooper at some point. It's like a rite of passage for his friendships. A test each can hopefully survive.

Blaine feels off-balance dragging his suitcase behind him. He travels infrequently, and always with Kurt. Usually he has one hand for his luggage and the other to hold onto Kurt. He keeps thinking he’s forgotten something and reaching out to take something that isn’t there.

On the tour, they learn that Cooper’s Spanish revival style house is just as handsome and over the top as he is. The architecture is completely foreign to New York and their Midwest upbringing. Where New York is brick, Los Angeles is cement and sand. Blaine suspects Cooper chose the vibrant blue paint and tiles accented throughout the interior to match his eyes.

“Gotta love the power of TV. Not that dinking around on stage isn’t fun – the theatre has kept me in touch with _art_ when I’m not making commercial blockbusters – but Free Credit Ratings Dot Com got me the credit to buy this sweet crib.” Cooper leans into one of the sweeping arches like he’s posing for _Better Homes and Gardens_.

“I thought you said theatre was dead,” Blaine teases.

“Turns out that’s just the way that New York smells,” Cooper ribs back. “No, theatre has its place. It’s like training wheels for art that actually pays, like TV and movies. You’ll get there. Baby steps.”

"Actually…” Blaine isn’t sure if he’s allowed to say this yet. “No one knows all the details yet, but there's talk of filming live from stage to put on TV or in a movie theatre, or at least on DVD. We could end up on all three!" The details on _South Pacific_ keep sounding more and more like a dream. Their costar’s fame keeps opening new doors they could hardly imagine.

“We’re going to rock people’s worlds on multiple platforms!” Tina cheers, thrilled to finally be in the spotlight. Or spotlight-adjacent.

“You and me,” Blaine agrees with a smile in his voice.

A flicker of jealousy passes over Cooper’s features.

Tina blatantly ogles Cooper as his tour continues and he leads them to the pool. Her hand ends up at the small of Cooper’s back. 

"Some of my greatest theatrical moments were birthed here. The reflective surface is great for deep moments where you also want to check your hair. Like if we want to try out a little something from _South Pacific_.... ‘ _It's not born in you! It happens after you're born!_ ’" Cooper splashes the chlorine-heavy water. It sprays toward Blaine. 

Blaine thinks it looks more _High School Musical 2_ anything else, which is a movie Blaine still loves, occasionally cajoles Kurt into watching with him, and truly believes will one day be regarded as musical masterpiece with relevant social commentary the way _South Pacific_ nowadays is, but probably isn’t what Cooper is going for. 

Tina cranes so far to watch Cooper bend that Blaine worries she might topple.

"Lieutenant Cable, am I right?" Cooper nods toward his audience. "I could play that part in my sleep. Remember when we did _South Pacific_ in high school?"

"You were in high school. I was like eight." Cooper has a new habit of acting like he and Blaine are closer in age than they are that's coupled with getting older, starting right around when Cooper turned 30. Blaine is nowhere near ready to deal with the idea of what it would be like to be in his early 30s instead of early 20s – he barely has a handle on no longer being a teenager, even if his friends call him and Kurt an old married couple – but he does like that maybe the age difference between them finally matters less.

"I was dashing, of course, but Blaine was pretty cute, too. Every girl who has ever played Liat has fallen madly in love with me," Cooper directs toward Tina. "Occupational hazard." 

"What about lesbian Liat?" Blaine asks, remembering one of Cooper’s accounts of his many community theatre productions. 

"She asked me to be her wingman, so, by proxy… love was had one way or another. Something about my tragic off-stage death really helps with seizing the moment. Good thing you got a hotel room for when Kurt’s here, huh? You’ll see.” Cooper winks. To Tina, he says, “And since Blaine  is unavailable…”

Before Cooper can go any further with his amorous hints, Blaine interrupts with, “Oh! While we’re on the topic of _South Pacific_ , we brought you something as a thank you for hosting us." Blaine wriggles a book out from his carry-on satchel and forces it into Cooper’s hands.

"A scrapbook." Cooper’s brows arch upward. 

"A _South Pacific_ commemoration, starting with the one we were both in and the dozens of pictures Dad took, but there's not just our production in there - I have pictures from all the ones you've done since then. I kept all of them." With an eager bounce, Blaine opens the first few pages to show off pictures and mementos all neatly arranged against colorful backgrounds and labeled with the date and location. He lands on a picture of him and Cooper standing side by side, much like they did moments ago, Cooper mugging for the camera and Blaine looking up at his big brother to see what he should do.

Blaine had to ask his mom to go through his box of childhood things to find pictures and playbills, as well as go through Cooper’s old photo album, but he’s pleased with how it turned out. Tina declared it “the most adorable thing ever” on the car ride from the airport while Blaine recounted memories from that first production. He wanted something personal for Cooper’s host gift, not the typical souvenir from New York – Blaine still loves New York souvenirs but he is reasonably sure he’s the only one – and a gift basket won’t say what spending time with Cooper means to him.

“Since we’re bound to take dozens of pictures on the tourist adventures Tina and I drag you along to, we’ll have plenty to commemorate _South Pacific_ bringing us together again.”

“Cute. I’ll put it right next to the ‘going away to college’ scrapbook you made me when you were eight.” Cooper looks around – what he would expect to see while outside is lost on Blaine – and then drops it on the patio table. “Once I find it.”

“Also, we brought wine.” Tina pantomimes drinking from a bottle.

Cooper perks up. “A woman after my own heart. We are _most def_ drinking that. You should tell me all about it.”

Blaine decides the best course of action is to tune out the flirting until they get it out of their systems. He turns to Artie for distraction as his eyes struggle to stay open after the long cross-country flight. “What’s your documentary vision here?”

“You two are my in. I talked to your director already and got access to all your rehearsals. I think she likes attention enough to go along with it. The New Direction reunion drama will be gold. Gold, I say!” Artie raises his driving-glove clad hand in praise.

“There won’t be any drama,” Blaine says too quickly.

“Oh, I’m definitely using that. Any more clichés you want to give me to repurpose in editing?”

“Isn’t it a little weird for you to be talking about your plans for manipulating your film while filming?”

“The word you’re looking for is _meta_. It’s hip.”

Blaine’s gulp is cut off by a yawn. He sends a quick text to his husband. It’s so late it’s early on the east coast. Kurt will sleep right through it, but he’ll read Blaine’s message in the morning. Blaine tries not to feel too disappointed when the message remains unread.

“May I point out that by texting sweet nothings to Kurt, you are failing to provide me sufficiently interesting scenes I can use in case being able to talk about a certain _famous lead actress_ falls through. The least you could do is dictate your texts to let us all eavesdrop.”

“You mean you can’t talk about –”

Artie cuts him off with, “It would be great if you wouldn’t say.”

“She’s the reason why anyone is going to come to this version of _South Pacific_ in the first place. What we do here matters because of her,” Blaine protests. Part of why he agreed to take the part was so he could meet his teen idol. He thinks he is an interesting person, but _20 Feet from Stardom_ has already been done and who wants to see relatively unknown actors talk about how excited they are to be in the shadow of a star they can't even name? 

“I don’t want to have to bleep you every time you say her name, otherwise it’ll look like you’re picking up a colorful vocabulary from the singing and dancing sailors. Pretend this is high school and censor yourself.” Artie points at him in a move picked up from Cooper.

Cooper claps his hands upon their return to the inside portion of their tour. “So, sleeping arrangements. Option one: you two ungratefully kick your host to the couch and take over the bedrooms. Option two: Blaine climbs into my bed like he hasn’t since he was, like, six, and unchivalrously leaves behind one of his oldest and dearest friends. Option three: Tina shares with me.”

Blaine sighs. “Don’t you have a blow-up mattress?” He swears in their chats about logistics someone mentioned there would be space.

“I like option three,” Tina says.

“Gross.” Blaine wrinkles his nose.

“It’s perfectly innocent.” Tina looks to Cooper for support.

“… words that have never described either of you,” Blaine says.

“And not your choice to make,” Tina finishes.

They’re so busy gazing at each other that they don’t see the faces Blaine makes, and Blaine can’t help protesting again.

"Right now? I was thinking we could hang out for a while." Blaine stifles a yawn to make the offer more compelling. He doesn't see either of them as much as he'd like. He thought they would spend their first night catching up like they haven’t been able to do in ages.

"Talk about our core wounds?" Cooper ventures, not unkindly. 

"We'll have another night for that," Tina promises. "I don't wanna explore my emotions without comfort food and I'm still trying to impress a guy who doesn’t need to know how much cheesecake I can eat in one sitting."

“I’m sure I’d be impressed,” Cooper says.

Blaine looks hopefully at Artie next.

“I'm not going for a _Chorus Line_ vibe here," Artie says. He taps at the side of his camera. "You've got therapy for that." 

Blaine turns back to Tina and Cooper for one last plea. "Don't you want to save dramatic but predictable mistakes for later in the trip when we're comfortably settled?"

Tina and Cooper share a look.

"Now works for me," Cooper says.

"Now is good." 

Cooper’s hand settles low on Tina’s back as they disappear down the hallway. “Just like old times: come for the adorable kid, stay for the hot older brother with a sensitive side.”

“Can I be the big spoon?” Tina asks.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Except for the opposite of that, which is also nice.” Cooper winks for Blaine and Artie’s benefit and ushers Tina into his room.

“Use condoms!” Blaine calls after them, against his better judgment not to get any more involved than he already is. For years to come he will be dealing with the awkward fallout from his brother and his best friend hooking up, but hopefully not 18 of them. 

“I’m so glad I brought my camera already,” Artie says as soon as the door clicks shut behind them.

Blaine looks at Artie with judgmental disappointment. “Did you really have to film that? You know they’ll both play anything up for an audience.”

Artie holds up a hand to silence Blaine. “This is gold.”

“Horrifying.”

"Turn your disapproval right here. Let the camera take it all in." 

"What? No. I don't care," Blaine says too petulantly to be believable. "I'll just be caught between the two most dramatic people I know when this blows up and I won't have a moment of peace between them. Why would I care." 

“Okay, well, if you’re not going to give me a good reaction shot, then get a step ladder: I need your help setting up for filming. I'm thinking we set up continually recording cameras throughout the entire house to make this less intrusive for you."

“Time to go home, Artie,” Blaine says firmly.

“But I came all this way. You know how LA traffic is, or you will soon enough. Gotta make it worth the travel time.”

Blaine insists with, “I’d like to be unconscious as soon as possible.”

Artie laughs. “Fine. Crew will be here tomorrow. Rest up and get ready for more reunion feels!”

Blaine retreats to the guest room as soon as Artie leaves. A fresh wave of exhaustion hits once the house is still around him. Something about changing time zones confuses him: losing three hours means he doesn’t believe it when his energy fades. He drops face-first on the bed. His eyes close before he hits the pillow. He’s too tired for grace.

Blaine basks a moment at completing the first part of his journey. He’s where he needs to be, and he’s exhausted but he’ll fix that soon enough. He stretches out and doesn’t find the bed’s edges. All this space, all to himself. Both are unheard of is New York. Blaine isn’t used to sleeping alone anymore. The bed seems too big for one person. No matter how much space he has, he tends to drift in his sleep until he finds Kurt. Tonight, he’ll likely keep drifting and end up sideways or on the floor. Neither would be a first.

He could let sleep take him, but his skin protests its tight confines, yearning for something softer than the latest trends. Comfort trumps immediacy of sleep. Kurt must have packed pajamas. He rolls onto Kurt’s side of a bed they won’t share and keeps rolling until he land of his feet. Blaine’s yellow vintage-inspired stowaway suitcase stands out against the earth tones theme carried through from the rest of the house. He wonders if Kurt thought to pack any mementos to add cheer to the guest room and make it seem more like home. Maybe Margaret Thatcher dog, that silly carnival prize from Kurt’s senior ditch day now five years old. Blaine didn’t think to ask for her, or for anything other than what he knew he needed. He hopes, as if wishing now will change the contents of a suitcase packed hours before.

His opened suitcase reveals no beloved stuffed toys, but a post it note with a heart drawn around _Kurt + Blaine_ in Kurt’s style. Blaine picks it up. Kurt has packed so tightly that the suitcase seems to hold three times as much as it should, and when Blaine unearths his pajamas, another note falls out.

_Sweet dreams!_ The message is followed by another doodled heart. A few more yellow post-it corners stick out from Blaine’s belongings, waiting to be unearthed.

Despite the temptation, Blaine leaves the rest of the suitcase’s contents to discover and treasure another time. If he’s careful throughout his trip, he can dole out Kurt’s notes of encouragement that he hopes are there and not run out. He picks the fallen post-it up and moves both to the side of the bed Kurt usually sleeps on.

**Blaine:** _You are adorable and sneaky and I love that about you_

He doesn’t press send on his text to Kurt. He’ll let it be the first thing he does when they’re both awake.

A thump from somewhere in the house startles Blaine away from his thoughts. He suspects it’s the room next door. He doesn’t wait to find out and scampers to the other end of the house too fast to have much dignity. He doesn’t have a plan for what to do with himself once he gets there.

He drops down onto the couch looking out onto the courtyard. He wants to be mad, but he has a hard time holding onto his anger when he has a view of palm trees and a pool. Blaine’s pajamas smell like home, and home in part smells like Kurt. Before he knows it, he hugs his arms around himself. It’s so quiet here. If Kurt were here, they would gossip in hushed tones about Tina and Cooper hooking up. Giggle and be done with it, not one worry about how the next few weeks are going to go.

He snuggles up with his phone like it could possibly take Kurt’s place. Tomorrow, he can run to the store to get an inflatable mattress and cookie dough ingredients for Cooper and Tina’s inevitable break up. Like a responsible adult.

He means for his self-imposed exile to the couch to last only long enough to make his point to his nonexistent audience, causing drama just like Tina and Cooper are bound to in a matter of days, but the time difference catches up with him and drags him down like a riptide. He closes his eyes and drifts off to the sounds of an unfamiliar city.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Tina drums her hands against the back of the couch. “Blaine, wake up. Blaine. Did you leave the bed for me? That wasn’t necessary.”

Blaine hugs the throw pillow tighter to him. The too small space he nestles into makes him feel almost okay without Kurt to hold onto, even if the pillow isn’t solid enough to fool him. He leans harder into the couch back. The couch is made to look great, not feel great. It sticks to his skin and protests loudly each time he moves. His hands find a cushion seam to grip onto. That feels better. Kurt often teases that Blaine’s grip could stop sleepwalking.

“Blaine!”

He peeks his eyes open for half a second to prove to Tina that he could be awake but chooses not to be. A beat and then Blaine opens his eyes to look right into Artie’s camera too close for comfort and pointed right at him.

“Already?” Blaine asks groggily. The previous night’s details come back to him. It hardly seems real to be in LA for the first time in years. And apparently asleep on Cooper’s couch to give Tina and Cooper a wide berth for their sexy shenanigans.

“It’s not that early,” Artie replies. “And I brought company!”

Blurry figures wave at Blaine. They look familiar, but his brain and his eyes don’t want to work. Tina and Cooper and jet lag officially ruined his brain. He thinks he sees a handful of his and Rachel’s former students from years ago, but that can’t be right.

“Hi, Mr. Anderson.” Jane smiles so politely and formally. Madison and Mason wave. Each of them points a camera in Blaine’s direction.

“Who let them in?” The pillow he hides in, thankfully, muffles the whine. He is so not camera ready. Blaine’s hand rises to his hair while he wonders if Artie purposefully chose a camera crew that's impossible to say no to. “Hi.”

“Sit up. Come on.” Tina tugs Blaine until he’s upright. She tucks herself under his arm like they’re back in high school. “If I wanted to be ignored, I would have rented a room on Craigslist.”

Blaine groans but obliges. “Don’t you have someone else to cuddle with?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“My brother? Really?”

“He’s the least gay and least Asian of the Anderson brothers.”

Blaine takes his arm around her shoulders back. Tina falls into his side cackling. He resists huffing too loudly. He doesn’t want her to want him anyway. His reflexively hurt feelings can give it up and devote themselves to processing his best friend and his brother hooking up. “Make Cooper put pants on before making breakfast. He’s on camera.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Tina grins and blows a kiss to Cooper banging around the kitchen in boxers and an undershirt.

“You said it was innocent,” Blaine bemoans. Not that he believed her. He should never believe Tina _or_ Cooper saying something is innocent.

“Of course we hooked up. Have you seen her boobs?” Cooper asks.

“Well, Tina’s not great about boundaries, so, yeah?” Actors in general aren’t great about them, and Blaine and Tina have done enough productions together that it was pretty much an inevitability.

“Then you know you should be very happy for me.” Cooper over-enunciates when he thinks he’s being clever and he wants to make sure his audience is paying attention. Blaine rolls his eyes.

Tina slides off the couch in delighted pursuit of pantsless Cooper. Blaine grabs her hand before she can get very far. “So, once we’re _dressed_ for the day, I was thinking we could start on our Los Angeles to-do list. We have enough time before rehearsal to fit in a leisurely stroll along the Walk of Fame, or check out that cupcake shop we were talking about." As always, Blaine relies on forcing a winning smile to help him get his way.

Tina pats his cheek and flits away. “We have plenty of time. We’ll get to it.”

There is also plenty of time for sucking face and causing drama, but they rushed into that right away. “But you love cupcakes.”

Cooper reluctantly turns away from grinning like a sex-crazed goofball at Tina to tut at Blaine. “Little soon for you to be substituting sugar for sex, Blainers. And New York had cupcake shops."

Blaine just keeps smiling and keeps his comments about what else it’s a little soon for to himself. "New York also has an ocean. Doesn't mean it's the same."

“So uptight all the time,” Cooper tuts about Blaine but with his focus back on Tina. He crooks his finger to beckon Tina closer, his lip curling with it. His nose bumps against hers. “Little mini buzzkill. We’ll work on that.”

Despite Blaine’s best efforts, Tina and Cooper forgo the Los Angeles adventure they promised Blaine in favor of making out over blueberry pancakes. Batter flings everywhere. It’s a blueberry catastrophe. They don’t even notice.

Blaine excuses himself from participating any longer in someone else's morning after. He's not needed in this scene. After extricating fresh clothes from his over-packed suitcase – with dozens of options to change up his look from his most casual to his most hipster to some of Kurt’s clothes that defy category – he takes the rental car to get an inflatable mattress and more ice cream and cookie dough than the inevitable breakup could possibly run through. He leaves Tina and Cooper and their devoted film crew behind, deciding with a little more foot stomping than absolutely necessary that they aren’t mature enough to take this trip with him.

Everyone just _has_ to fall in love with Cooper at first sight. Even Kurt did a little, and Blaine shouldn’t revisit that memory if he’s trying to stop himself from sulking, as if Cooper’s charm is somehow a personal affront. So much for Blaine’s chance to spend more time with either of them. Tina and Cooper will be fused together at the hip/mouth/other-places-Blaine-doesn’t-want-to-think-about, and he’ll be left to be his own entertainment and support system. After three years of marriage, he’s not used to being alone, but it looks like LA will give him plenty of practice.

Of course, when Tina and Cooper break up, they'll both want Blaine’s attention again. He tries not to look forward to it too much. He’s not quite selfish enough to wish misery of them for the sake of being needed. He’s separately seen both of them post break ups, and it’s not pretty. They are excellent about letting their misery be felt. Everyone in a 10-mile radius will be miserable too.

Blaine’s resolve to not bother Kurt lasts less than 60 seconds.

**Blaine:** _Talk now? (9:26 AM)_

They agreed upon a system before Blaine left: a text can be ignored, but a call damn well better be answered, whether for real or imagined emergency. So he texts before he wants to talk, even though he’d much prefer Kurt’s voice. 

**Blaine:** _I’m about to drive so call if you want me (9:27 AM)_

The feeling that he’s supposed to be holding onto something – someone – doesn’t go away. He thought it just might be for traveling the day before, but it lingers in his awareness.

He fights loneliness on his drive through a city he doesn’t know by putting on the most upbeat pop music he has and singing along. In a pinch, the sound of his voice will keep him company just fine. The sun shines bright enough that his dreary mood can’t last. He really loves palm trees, and they’re everywhere. As a child, he tried to convince his mom to plant one, but she explained it wouldn't be happy in Ohio, and it wouldn't grow tall like the trees they see when visiting his dad's family. Blaine was a sensitive enough kid that the tree's feelings kept him from pressing further and he resigned himself to admiring them on vacation. Some shops in the flower district in New York sell them, but they look they way they’re supposed to here.

Kurt responds to Blaine’s text with a call as Blaine nears the Safeway. His warm voice on speakerphone fills the car. “Hi! I was just thinking of you!”

Blaine grins even though Kurt can’t see him. In his more cynical moods, he suspects Kurt’s enthusiastic greetings are just to make him happy because goodness knows Blaine craves as much affection as Kurt can give. In his more charitable moods, he _knows_ it’s a conscious effort and is grateful for it.

“Tell me all about LA. Have you seen anyone famous yet?”

Blaine snorts. “Does Cooper count?”

“Family drama already?” Count on Kurt to pick up on his tone. “Well, that’s what I’m here for. Gossip all the bad feelings away.”

Blaine relaxes at Kurt’s easy chatter.Kurt cares about drama that seems pettier the more distance Blaine puts between himself and Cooper’s home, and Kurt already knows all his core wounds so he doesn’t have to act like they’re some unknown entity. "You know how I suspected Tina and Cooper might be an explosive combination?"

"No? I don’t. Did you say something?” 

"No, but I thought it.” 

"I can picture you thinking it." Kurt humors him, but Blaine doesn't mind. 

"Well, it seemed silly to say, and was completely unfounded on anything but knowing them and how they are, but I was right. I was totally right. I should have believed myself. They didn't even last one night, and now the whole trip is…."

Kurt’s laugh fills the rental car. “You just cut yourself off from saying ‘fucked.’”

“Not funny.”

"We should've placed bets."

“Why can’t people just do what I want them to?” Blaine laments.

“Or not do?” Kurt chuckles at his own joke. “Just let them do whatever crazy thing they want to do, including each other. They’re going to anyway.”

Blaine groans at the reasonable advice. His controlling tendencies are perhaps coming on too strong. Blaine parks and heads inside while chatting with Kurt, and it almost feels the way it always does with their chores. "My drama sense is tingling. You know how they both are."

"Consider it your in-home entertainment. Observe, but don’t engage. You do not want to feed into any star-crossed fantasies you know they're both harboring. The best way to make them get over it is to act like they're being normal. Those are my well-honed strategies for dealing with dramatic coworkers, best friends, and husbands."

Blaine laughs. It’s a relief to not bottle up how he feels and let it build and build until it explodes out of him. A moment of venting and it’s suddenly clear how petty this drama ultimately is. He still feels a little abandoned, but he can manage. He still has Kurt. The other side of the country might as well be the other side of the world, but it doesn’t feel so far right now.

"I have to go, okay?I shouldn't be on the phone but I couldn't resist. Dani and Elliott are bound to notice they’re down a band member soon."

"I appreciate it." He can picture Kurt sneaking away, phone to his ear and completely conspicuous. Kurt’s acting is incredibly subtle, but he can’t pull off subtlety in real life. “Love you.”

“I love you, too!”

Blaine takes a few steps into the store before stopping in the middle of the aisle because it doesn’t feel right. It feels too quiet doing errands without Kurt chatting in his ear. No one has to listen to Blaine ponder all the pre-made cookie dough options in the local Safeway and whether he should make the cookie dough himself since it always tastes more comforting to him that way. He’s lucky Kurt snuck away for a quick call, but now he’s in charge of entertaining himself on his own, and that’s how it will need to be for the next several weeks. Once he has what he needs, he will have no choice but to go back to Cooper’s to keep it from spoiling in the heat. He can only idle in Safeway so long. What will he do with himself if he goes back and no one wants his company still? 

Blaine leaves with a bottle of high SPF sunscreen and nothing he came for.

He goes to the Hollywood Walk of Fame instead, which he finds just fine on his own. In the sporty little rental car he delights in, he coats the sunscreen thickly on all exposed skin, checking the thoroughness if his application in the rearview mirror. 

**Blaine:** _Turn off your text notifications. I've decided to play tourist (10:05 AM)_

With Kurt informed of his whereabouts, Blaine pockets his phone and soaks up the full tourist experience. The sun on his skin is enough to brighten his spirits. The ice in his coffee jingles while he walks, setting a cheerful rhythm. He interrupts his stroll when he spots the names of idols to take awkward selfies with, one hand next to the brass stars and the other angling toward him as he presses close to the concrete. He plops down at the cement imprints of Julie Andrews’ tiny high-heeled shoes and sends that to Kurt.

**Blaine:** _Would you want a shared star or one that’s just you? (11:12 AM)_

**Blaine:** _Not that I’d turn down any star, but I like the idea of our names being together forever (11:14 AM)_

**Blaine:** _Like_ _Sonny and Cher!! (11:14 AM)_

**Blaine:** _The Kurt and Blaine Comedy Hour has a nice ring to it (11:19 AM)_

**Blaine:** _I know you’re busy so I’ll just assume this is where your “but I get to be Cher” response goes (11:23 AM)_

**Blaine:** _But with even more fabulous costumes (11:25 AM)_

He wonders if entertainers with their names immortalized like this feel like they’ve made it. He’s just starting out, and his heart isn’t set on having his name on a $30,000 slab of concrete in Hollywood, but it’s a nice idle daydream for a day like today.

Next, Blaine poses with an aspiring actress dressed as Catwoman and pays her with the change in his wallet. He wonders if she has the same daydreams.

He winds his way through Hollywood. Sometimes his eyes are on the stars, and sometimes on the other people. Strangers offer to take pictures for him, and so far no one steals his phone. It's not the day he planned, but it's a good day.

Blaine returns to the grocery store refreshed and proud of his independence. With an extra spring in his step, he attempts to shop again.

He makes friendly conversation with the other shoppers and store employees, which is greeted with indifferent to amusement. Everyone in New York is too busy to be slowed down - it's an efficiency thing, Kurt explained to soothe Blaine’s wounded pride when the chatter considered courteous or even charming in the Midwest annoyed the baristas of New York - but despite LA’s size, that attitude isn't the same. Blaine is allowed to try and brighten their days, giving compliments and smiles and sometimes gets them in return. 

Still, despite his regaining optimism, he decides on buying pre-made cookie dough instead of making it from scratch. If he needs a fix, he'll need one fast.

***

Blaine comes back to Cooper’s in time to pick Tina up for the _South Pacific_ cast’s initial read through at their director’s home. The ride back is too quiet again, but he rolls down the window and the breeze helps some, even if it smells pretty awful, all hot asphalt and gasoline. New York smells awful on a hot day too and he manages just fine there. 

He takes a moment to check his appearance in the rearview mirror while parked outside of Cooper’s house. Artie wants to set up a camera set up in the rental car, and he sweet-talked the director into granting permission for full access to their rehearsals.  For the next few weeks, Blaine is always going to have an audience. The pinkness in his cheeks is hopefully from the heat and not a hint at a burn. The wind that comes through his open car window makes him look more casual and carefree. He resists fixing his hair. Instead, he reaches up and tentatively loosens it more. He will force himself to be relaxed. Being somewhere new means he can be someone new. He deliberately shakes it looser from its hold. Even though he'll be making a first impression on his coworkers. Even though he'll be on camera. 

He looks more like Cooper when he lets his hair have volume, although it curls loosely where Cooper’s is straight. It’s disconcerting, but not bad.

He undoes the top buttons on his shirt next. It's a polo, so he's not in danger of going too far and looking like he should be on the cover of a $2 romance novel. It still feels transgressive. And like he can breathe better. He might regret it later, but at the moment it's freeing. It isn't meant to look perfect, so it's fine that it isn't. With his boat shoes and his polo with an open collar instead of a bowtie, he looks like a chill, beachy hipster prepared for whatever chaos Cooper and Tina and his new career can bring.  

Blaine calls out for Tina as he enters Cooper’s place. He deliberately does not look around to see where she is in the quiet house while he unpacks his groceries and then retreats back outside. 

“Bling-Bling!” Tina catches up to him halfway to the car and grabs hold in a fierce hug. Blaine holds on to prolong the embrace.It's a good hug. The kind that makes up for a few neglected hugs before it. 

"Did you hit puberty again?" Cooper catches up as well and ruffles Blaine’s loosened, curling hair. “Hoping for that growth spurt to finally come too? You remember that –I left for a few months and came back to little bro looking like he’s had a run in with the electric toaster, demanding I ‘show him my secrets’ or show him how to use Mom’s flatiron because she wouldn’t? That was a hoot.”

Blaine remembers all too well when once-gentle waves, only noticeable when grown too long, became uncontrollable tight curls without heavy intervention. And how distraught he was over failing to make it look like it once had. Blaine makes sure to smile as he shrugs his shoulders and he refrains from airing dirty laundry on Cooper in retaliation. He may not wake up looking the way he wants like Cooper, but if his hair wants to be wild, he'll let it and maybe for once, he won’t obsess over whether he’s making a mistake. “It’s time for a change.”

Cooper chuckles. “Whatever you say, mini-cooper.”

Tina reaches out to play with a curl.  "Way to make off with our ride." She plucks the keys out of his hand and climbs into the driver’s seat. 

"You were busy." His voice is both suggestive and petulant as he coaxes the curls back into formation. He slides into the passenger side with a wave goodbye to Cooper.

Tina isn’t fazed. “So I took advantage of the opportunity to sex Cooper Anderson up; you knew it was a possibility when you agreed that I could ask to stay."

"Oh my god." Blaine laughs weakly through his shock. After venting to Kurt, it all seems funnier and less traumatic. "You've spent weeks contemplating boning my brother and you didn't think to warn me?" 

"Well, I didn't know if he would be up for it." 

"Oh my god!" Blaine repeats, laughing openly now. Tina joins in. 

"I've been thinking about it since I was 17," Tina says just to scandalize him further. "That master class where he spent the whole time bouncing around trying to impress us? You're both so eager to please." 

"Stop! Tina!" 

 "I'm going to call up Kurt to compare notes." 

"That's not cute!"

She grins wickedly.  ~~~~

"You know he's not me." He isn't sure his statement is true, but he resists tacking “right?” onto the end. She used to have a crush on Blaine.  Blaine and Cooper are brothers, which means they’re supposed to be similiar. Just because it makes his ego seem huge doesn’t mean it doesn’t cross his mind.

Tina gives him a measured look. "Good thing, otherwise last night would have been super trippy."

"Eww." He isn't sure where else to go with the – warning? incentive? – that Cooper isn’t like him. The words on the tip of his tongue are nothing kind about his brother, whom he should really think better of now that they’re both grown. Cooper may be a self-absorbed show off, but really, Cooper isn't the only Anderson brother with that reputation. Pointing it out is just walking into a joke at his expense. Same with saying Cooper isn't great at picking up how other people feel. Or that he doesn't always think through consequences, particularly when they're for other people. Blaine thinks he and Cooper are radically different people, but maybe he's the only one who sees it that way. And who is he to say what Tina wants? Cooper is straight and single and has abs that could rival Mike Chang’s. Tina will still have Blaine for emotional support. 

“I missed you,” Tina tells him sincerely. “You didn’t have to run away.”

“I didn’t have to wait around either.” He’s polite but unapologetic. Blaine has never been good at waiting around for attention to come to him. “There will be time, right? We’ve got weeks.”

Rehearsals are officially about to start, but they won’t take up every waking moment of every day. Rationally, he knows today is not their last chance. They have all of Los Angeles to explore together.

“The cupcake tour has morning timeslots,” he offers brightly. “We can pick a time that doesn’t conflict with rehearsals when we get back to Cooper’s. Cooper can come, or it can be just you and me.”

Tina groans. “Cool it on the cupcakes. It’s cute and all, but some of us are trying to lose weight.”

“You look great.” It comes out without a thought, but it’s also true. Tina has always been beautiful, although underappreciated, and her weight has no bearing upon it.

“I know! But they asked me to lose 10 pounds. Last three better happen while I'm here."

Blaine fleetingly wonders if he was also supposed to do something to prepare and somehow forgot in the excitement. “I’ll do it with you.”

“No one cares if you lose three pounds, Bee.”

“Unless the director decides to deviate from how _South Pacific_ is usually done, I’m going to spend a song prancing around half-naked. And as someone _reminded_ me, my brother’s the hot one.”

“You’re both the hot one.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I don’t go around lifting my shirt for near strangers to show off my _perfect abs_.”

Tina scoffs right back at him, exaggerated for effect and with years a practice directed toward him. “Doesn’t mean you couldn’t. And if I say much more on the subject, your husband is going to send me more pictures of him possessively licking you. Power to you if that’s your thing, but I’m not looking for new kinks, thanks.”

Blaine rarely has qualms about showing off, including showing off his body, and he doesn’t expect qualms to crop up this time, but the stakes are higher than a high school calendar fundraiser or a friendly pool part. It’s another chance for self-improvement.

“It’ll be fun.” At a skeptical noise from Tina, he adds, “Maybe we see what LA has to offer in the way of bikram yoga and cycling courses instead of baked goods.”

“Well, better than doing it alone. My misery welcomes your company. You can remind me that it’ll all be worth it for our starring roles.” Tina hums in contentment. “Tell me my lines.”

“Um.” Blaine searches for a scene with her in it. Then he worries he skipped over it and flips between pages.

“I admit it’s been a long time since I’ve seen _South Pacific_ , but nothing?”

“I’m looking?” He didn’t pay much attention to Liat the first time he was in _South Pacific_. He remembers Cooper had a crush on the classmate who played her role and tried to use his cute kid brother as a hook. Blaine doesn’t remember Liat in the show. In fact, Blaine’s memory of the entire show is hazy at best. In Cooper’s high school version, Blaine showed up at the beginning and the end to complete the little fictional family. His lines were in French and mostly sung, the meaning having little bearing on the plot. He sat backstage and attentively watched the older kids act out the rest, but most of his attention went to his idolized older brother in the lead role. In Blaine’s mind, it has always been Lieutenant Cable’s show. Cooper made sure he was the star. He was the loudest, projecting to the back of the rundown underfunded gymnasium since the school couldn’t even afford an auditorium, and gave frequent dramatic pauses. No one else stood a chance.

Blaine finally finds Liat toward the end of the first act. “Um, your first line is _Liat_.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“I ask if you speak English, and you respond, _Je parle fran_ _ç_ _ais, un peu_. I ask if you’re afraid of me, and you say _no_.”

“Good for me. Then what?”

“We, um, fade to black? Which was awfully forward of us, but hey, it’s musical theatre. We kiss, the music swells, and I lose my shirt somewhere in there. Your next line is _la mère_ , followed by _no, no_ when I say I have to leave. And then I sing to you.”

“And then?”

“Um…That’s it for that scene.”

“That’s _it_?”

Blaine keeps reading ahead, looking for Liat’s next scene. He's disappointed on Tina’s behalf. He never thought to count Liat’s lines, but surely there are more than he finds. He must have missed them. Tina begrudgingly keeps her eyes on the road and lets Blaine discover for her that Liat is in a grand total of three scenes. They fall in love, they break up, she learns of his death. That’s it.

Blaine tries for a positive spin by saying, “At least we’ll get to be on stage together?”

“I don’t get it. It’s a romance. How can only one person be important in a romance?”

“It’s just the script. There’s so much more to the show than just a script.” He doesn’t quite believe his own words.

“Did I build it up in my mind? Getting Liat felt like a big deal. I remember _being_ in _South Pacific_ as a kid and thinking she was a big deal.”

“She is,” Blaine promises. “You know you’ll pull focus.”

“But I’m supposed to finally _be_ the focus.”

Tina’s disappointment remains throughout the rest of their drive and their arrival at the meet and greets at director May Hopkins’ sprawling home. Blaine pauses at the threshold to get into the right character to make a good impression. Most of “charm” is being nice, and Blaine believes in being nice. The rest is acting like strangers are already friends with enough confidence that they go along with it. He’ll flatter and wink his way though the crowd. He just has to get in the right headspace.

“Let’s do this.” Tina takes him by the arm and pulls him along inside.

Blaine stumbles for an unprepared moment, but then a moment passes and he bounds alongside her, smile wide, ready to dazzle, and hoping no one saw him stumble. A swanky party at a beautiful house near the beach hits on so many fantasy clichés of what success is going to feel like. Fantasy clichés Blaine didn't think could become real. The store-bought homeyness inside their director’s home reminds Blaine of his childhood, but elevated. "Conversation pieces" litter the living room, carefully selected to give an impression rather than serve a function. Musical instruments hang on the wall like art. A piano stands in the corner.

A few partygoers look up at their entrance. The immediate attention from Artie and crew, who arrived early to set up and get releases signed and now have all cameras trained on Tina and Blaine, attracts more curiosity. Blaine smiles at the attention. Tina is impassive. She flips through where they left off in their shared script. "Am I even still on stage? Did I wander off and miss it?" 

Blaine glances around to see if anyone can overhear them. “Let’s talk about it later.”

“I remember watching _South Pacific_ growing up and thinking I could play this part. Did I build it up in my mind? Did I used to be satisfied with so little? It was so romantic in my head.”

Before Blaine can respond to Tina, the actor who plays Billis, a comedian named John Clarke whose cable show Blaine is aware of thanks to Sam but not enough to make conversation without revealing his ignorance, greets him with both hands clasped. "I've been wondering who our Lieutenant Cable would be. Let me introduce you to the other sailors." 

A vain thrill runs through Blaine at the realization that, as Lieutenant Cable, he's one of the "people to meet" at this party. No one else has a part he'd prefer to his own. Blaine preens under the attention with a tightlipped smile and a shiver of self-satisfaction. He earned it; he can bask a little.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Blaine says on private school reflex. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Tina Cohen-Chang, who will play Liat.”

Tina hugs Blaine’s side in response. “Blainey Days and I go way, way back. We took _West Side Story_ and _Grease_ by storm together back in high school, and have been completely inseparable since then.”

John is visibly taken aback. He eyes the camera and then the two of them. “Ah. Cool. Built-in-BFF for the show. You’re welcome to come along. I’m sure the sailors will love you, too.”

Blaine wonders if this is how Madison and Mason feel sometimes: a packaged deal, linked as a safety net for each other that also scares off anyone else from thinking they could compete for their attention.

“Blaine’s married,” Tina volunteers too helpfully.

“No one’s hitting on me, Tay-Tay.” The endearment slips out. Now they’re the small town hicks with cutesy nicknames. They might as well be Creepy Incest Twins. He smiles too big to make up for the gaffe. John doesn’t look reassured.

“Oh my god, Jake!” Tina recognizes a familiar face first among the sailors before Blaine does and waves him over. “Jake Puckerman, did they hire you to sing and dance to _Nothing Like a Dame_ based on your high school reputation?”

“Does Liat say so little because she has a stutter?” Jake counters, unperturbed.

“Well, that won’t get me more lines, but it'll make my speaking time three to five times longer, so I’ll consider it. How many lines do you have? Are you in more than three scenes? I want to know if I should defect to the sailors. If Nellie can look cute in a sailor outfit, so can I.”

“I don’t think you can do that in the real world,” Jake tells her.

“What, like I’ve been living somewhere fake because I’m thinking outside the box? I can try!” Tina shoots back.

“We also went to high school together,” Blaine explains to John, who looks at them all in polite confusion.

“Was this like a _Fame_ situation?” John asks.

“Regular high school,” Blaine corrects with a bright smile. Don't give away how weird this is. It's only weird if you acknowledge it's weird. 

“I would not call that place regular,” Jake says. He adds without conviction, "Nice seeing you two again," and slips into the crowd before they respond. 

Tina scowls at his back. "We weren’t that weird! No need to run away! Can you believe that? It's like he thinks we're career poison or something."

John makes his excuses to move on as well. Blaine sighs and wonders if they should have had a how to behave in public strategy talk in the car. He adores Tina, but he has never tried to work with her professionally before, and they have very different approaches to creating first impressions. It would be so much more convenient for him if she wanted to hang out earlier and let him be independent now.Dredging up the past doesn't match his strategy of starting fresh.

Tina picks up on his polite embarrassment. "Are you doing the puppet master thing? You are, aren’t you?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He looks away and hopes she drops the subject. 

"You're daydreaming about controlling us all, you tiny little dictator."

"That's not..."

"Blaine Jong Un!" She points in his face. Blaine most regrets agreeing to let the two most dramatic people he knows learn from each other at that moment.

“People are going to hear you,” Blaine huffs indignantly. Causing a scene with the help of Tina is hardly turning over a new leaf. He almost suggests they split up to work the rest of the room - the words are on the tip of his tongue – when the reminder of how his resolve to obsess less over perfection applies here cuts him off. Things don’t have to go perfectly. As annoying as it is that Tina’s accusation is right, he can’t make her stick to his preferred style of creating an impression. If he doesn’t like the impression he’s making, then it’s up to him to change it.

“Excuse me.” Blaine turns, walks past all the people he should charm, and beelines to the piano in the corner that looks more for show than playing. The keys are comforting under his hands. It’s like a home away from home. A few chords and his performing stress melts away.

He starts with decorative piano. Something unobtrusive. Something to test out the crowd’s willingness to let him play. He looks up to gauge the reaction. No one protests. He gets a few looks of interest. Performing is always his fastest route to endearing himself to strangers.

Billy Joel seems like a natural choice when entertaining on the piano, so he makes his song choice. The crowd murmurs once the intro becomes recognizable.

Blaine sings along soft enough that he won’t interrupt any conversations but loud enough that he’ll be heard. “ _Some folks like to get away / Take a holiday from the neighborhood / Hop a flight to Miami Beach / Or to Hollywood_.”

The reference to Hollywood elicits cheers. Confident in his performance, Blaine picks up the tempo and the volume. He catches one person’s eye while he sings, draws them in with a lopsided smile, and moves on until most of the party gathers around his piano. He nods encouraging for others to join in the song.

“ _But I know what I'm needing / And I don't want to waste more time / I'm in a New York state of mind_.”

The director claps her hands and silences them all. “Let’s wrap up the songs about not wanting to be here and begin before my home becomes a piano bar.”

Blaine’s fingers slip onto an ugly chord. His smile aimed at her falters when it isn’t returned. He primly closes the fallboard back over the keys and follows the rest of the cast into the area she beckons them toward. They squeeze into couches and perch on armrests and sprawl on the floor.

“Aww, inappropriate song choice,” Tina coos at him. Blaine squeezes her hand. Despite their almost-argument, Tina and Blaine stick by each other’s sides and squeeze into an armchair meant for one.

As casual as the read-through is supposed to be, May Hopkins’ sharp eyes never rest. They rove over the lounging actors. Blaine sits up straighter. He’s as composed as a person sharing half of a cushion can be. She's not as relaxed as she's pretending to be, which means the read-through shouldn't be either. Blaine quickly downs the drink Tina presses into his hand lest he spill it on the faux-handmade rug. He keeps an eye on Tina as well.

While everyone gets settled, Tina says under he breath, “Let’s hope the rest of Liat’s lines turn up.”

Blaine shushes her as kindly as he can.

May glances at them before she begins. “This is our first opportunity to see how this production is going to go. The songs will come later, as will our Nellie, but our starlet’s schedule won’t permit her to attend rehearsals until our last week. I want the rest of you in good shape before then so we don’t waste precious rehearsal time later,” May says matter-of-factly. “As you can imagine, we do not have an understudy for the role to read for Nellie today.”

Tina raises her hand. She doesn’t wait to be called on. "I can stand in."

She's greeted with giggles and arched eyebrows. 

Tina responds with a judgmental look of her own. "It's not like Liat has much to do. You need someone to read the lines. Why not me?"

She never gets her answer, but she doesn’t get chosen either.

***

As the evening draws to a close, Blaine watches patiently for his director’s attention before he’ll allow Tina to drag him out the door and toward the beach. He rubs his hands together eying the informal line that forms to bid their host goodnight and maybe make a better impression. When it’s his turn, he is ready to perform. He bounds over confidently.

“Your home is enchanting!” She doesn’t notice his proffered hand. He drops his before the moment can become awkward. “I hope you don’t mind my enthusiasm for your piano. It’s beautiful and I can never resist playing.” He keeps his tone friendly and bright, not actually apologetic, hoping she’ll take his cue and relax into casual conversation.

“I’d say you missed your calling, but between this and the camera crew, it seems being the center of attention is exactly what you want.”

Blaine laughs at what he wants to believe is a joke. She doesn’t join in, so he keeps babbling. “I’m thrilled to be here. Lieutenant Cable is one of the most iconic male roles in American musical theatre. This is such an amazing opportunity for me.”

“It is,” she says evenly.

He flounders internally at where to go from here. He’s good at figuring out who to be for his audience, whether he’s actually performing or just trying to impress one person. He can’t figure her out. He can’t tell what she thinks of him at all. Is it a warning to stay in line? Or all in his mind? Is he supposed to be more grateful than he already is?

Her eyes slide toward the rest of the room, and that is a cue Blaine can take.

“I won’t keep you from the rest of your guests. Have a lovely evening.” He offers his hand and she takes it this time.

He’ll do better next time.

“You promised me a beach to frolic on after this,” Tina reminds him, which also helps distract him from obsessing over every way that could have gone better.

No one else takes Tina up on her offer to fill in for Nellie during the read through, but she rehearses ‘My Girl Back Home’ with Blaine on the beach Cooper lures them to after the party. It’s a gorgeous, understated little duet for Lieutenant Cable and Nellie as they think of the lives they left behind. Tina and Blaine both crack a smile at how Blaine’s line “ _A blue eyed kid, I liked her a lot_ ,” almost works for Kurt.

The waves lap at their feet as they sing in the surf, lulling them with gentle rhythm and fresh air.

“ _How far away_ ,” the lyrics muse over and over, and Blaine’s mind wanders to how LA feels nothing like New York. He’s out of his depth, but he’ll adjust for LA like he did for New York. It won’t take long to figure out. LA is inescapably dirty in the same way NYC is, but it’s crowded in a different way, where people aren't stacked on top of each other but he can't go anywhere without moving through them. It sprawls where New York is cramped. It’s like paved paradise that kept the warmth and the beach access. The sand from the beach gets everywhere. Blaine will find it exasperating eventually. For now, it reminds him that he’s somewhere new.

Time on the beach brings them back into balance. Blaine and Tina finally get the time together they both craved but at mismatched times. Their voices work well together. The disappointments and less pleasant moments of the day wash away with the waves. Tina and Blaine drop into dry sand with the end of their impromptu duet and wiggle their toes in without a care for how it will stick.

The wash of contentment unsettles him. It’s dangerous to like a city so much – he knows it’ll disappoint him. By the laws of the universe, something must be coming.

He shakes off the feeling. He has a show to focus on and friends to reconnect with. Tina’s voice is gorgeous and it’s a shame no one will get to hear it like this. “I’m tempted to say I’d rather sing this with you,” he tells her. “Which, you may remember, is a big deal, because _international superstar_.”

Tina bolts upright. Sand flies. “Let’s make it happen.”

“Tina, you can’t steal a role from a pop icon.”

Tina has that look – the _don’t stop me now, I’m going to be a star_ look – that Blaine has seen so many times between his brother, Rachel Berry, his husband, and even his own reflection. “We’re going to find a way so I can sing.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first official _South Pacific_ rehearsal is organized chaos. Blaine insists he and Tina show up early to the rehearsal space, but they’re far from the first to step inside and then balk at the sight. Communication somewhere went awry, because no one is ready for them yet, and no one knows what the revised schedule will be. Most of the cast idles steps inside the doorway awaiting direction. Some of the sailors goof off and then guiltily look around to see if they should stop. The two child actors give up all pretense of professionalism and chase around the room.

As soon as he spots their director, Blaine bounds over with Tina following along at the tug of his hand. “Reporting for duty! Where would you like us?”

“I’ll tell you when I need you.” May walks toward the group of sailors and nurses without a second glance.

“Um, okay.” It comes sassier than he should be, and he should definitely stop wrinkling his nose even if she isn’t looking his way. He never knows what to do when someone else deviates from his preferred script of niceties. He amends by adding a sweeter look and asking, “Do you need help?”

“Get off-book so you don’t waste time later on.”

“Looking forward to it!” Blaine calls after her, forcibly upbeat.

Tina steers him to a wall they can lean against and watch the other actors from a distance. “Wasting time? I don’t think you’re supposed to admit that.”

“Learning the _script_ ,” Blaine corrects. He glances aside to see if Artie caught the misstep on camera and how excited he looks by it. “She doesn’t think I’m looking forward to wasting time, does she?”

“She’ll fall in love with you eventually.” Tina is more sincere than condescending as she pats at his arm ~~.~~

"Is there something about me that's setting her off?" If Blaine knows what it is, he can modify his approach. 

"Probably that you worry so much about what she thinks of you," Tina responds drolly. 

Blaine runs a hand over his hair, forgetting he isn't supposed to do that anymore with his new style. No stress fidgeting with his carefree look lest it becomes a homeless look. But mildly musing it probably goes with the spirit of it, so he resists immediately looking for a reflective surface. 

 “Right. It’s fine,” he says more for his reassurance than Tina’s. “Maybe there’s a sailor-related incident she needs to attend to.” He doesn’t have to take it personally. She’s busy. Being busy doesn’t mean she hates him. They have barely interacted enough for her to feel anything toward him. He still has time to win her over.

“Go for the obvious joke and say seamen.”

Blaine checks to make sure no one listens in before giggling. “A seamen-related incident, then.”

“Seamen all over the place.” Tina arches an eyebrow in challenge.

“Earlier than expected seamen.”

“More seamen than anyone was prepared for.”

“Seamen that need to be cleaned up after.” Blaine focuses on looking attentive even as they tell juvenile jokes. He glances down at his script to look like he’s hard at work.

“I’m out of seamen jokes already? That can’t be right.” Tina frowns.

Blaine courteously gestures to their camera operator. “Jane, do you have anything for us?”

Jane shakes her head with tight lips and wide eyes. “You used to be my _teacher_.”

“Even temporary replacement choir directors love seamen jokes.” Tina nudges Blaine’s side and gets him to laugh more. “Seamen jokes are universally impossible to resist. Nobody’s that perfect.”

Jane shakes her head again, this time in amusement.

Their silly game makes Blaine mostly forget about his faux pas. Liat and Cable are a natural pair for rehearsing on their own once they get their giggles out. Unfortunately, Liat’s second scene is just as limited as her first. It’s all about Cable and Liat’s mother negotiating her future. The script doesn’t say how much Liat understands. Tina spends most of her time helping Blaine out with his lines while Liat is supposed to wait silently. Tina flips ahead to confirm, but they both know from the read-through how surprisingly limited Liat’s role is.

As for the pandemonium around them, eventually the sailors are sent to one side to learn choreography, the nurses to another to work on a song, and Blaine and Tina stay where they are to wait for their turn. The actor playing Emile de Becque, without any remaining potential scene partners available, cheerfully fills in for Nellie in the nurses’ number. Through their semi-organized chaos, May Hopkins makes the rounds. Blaine tries to be aware of her without losing focus on the lines he has to learn, but he quickly realizes he isn’t successful at both. It’s affecting his performance, which he wants to make sure he gets right. He does his best every on every line and hopes he doesn’t startle out of his skin when May appears at their side.

In the midst of all the noise, Cooper shows up uninvited. Tina notices first, while Blaine is in the midst of monologing Cable’s lines at her, and Blaine turns to see what caught her attention.

“What’s he doing here?” Blaine’s voice goes flat. He left the address of the rehearsal space on the fridge for Cooper in case of emergencies. He didn’t think to include a definition of emergencies along with it.

“Schmoozing. It’s his natural state of being. It’s fine. Our big scary director can fend for herself.” Tina waves his concern away.

“But we’re...” Seamen jokes aside, they’re meant to be working, not playing. Blaine watches warily as Cooper intercepts May on her rounds through rehearsals. Their big scary director seems fine, if perhaps more peevish looking, but Blaine can’t really tell. Blaine hasn’t figured her out yet at all, apparently. More accurately, Blaine hasn’t figured out how to make her like him yet. So far, she tolerates him at best. She doesn't seem to like anyone else better, so at least he has that going for him, but handling not being liked is not one of his fortes.

Cooper has no such concerns, laughing at whatever he just said and leaning toward May like they’re old friends; he’ll irritate any director he comes across in the name of tenacity. He also has unconventional audition methods. He books work in the weirdest ways – funny little coincidences that make good stories as long as they don’t involve Blaine. Uncharitably, Blaine thinks he doesn’t need his brother as a scenery-chewing chorus boy distracting from his big break.

Tina nudges him. “Go say hi if you’re going to be all tense about it. I can run my practically nonexistent lines on my own. Actually, screw that, I doubt the LA crowd is snobbish enough to notice if my French sucks. Let’s have fun!”

Tina bounds over to Cooper, who catches her in a dramatic twirl. May Hopkins looks even more unimpressed by Cooper than she did a moment ago. Blaine follows more cautiously.

“Hey, Squirt! We were just talking about the first time you were in _South Pacific_.” To their director, Cooper adds, “I got him the audition. He was nervous about being this tiny little thing auditioning to be in a high school production with the big kids. I told him that he could be whoever he wanted.”

Blaine watches his brother nervously. Cooper bragging about anyone other than Cooper doesn’t sit right with him. There has to be a catch.

"Just because there was literally no one else for the part doesn't mean he didn't earn it,” Cooper adds.

That’s more like him.

“I played Lieutenant Cable then, of course, and half a dozen more times after that. _South Pacific_ was my suggestion. Came up with the whole idea to introduce my little brother to the stage. Everyone was so busy fighting for roles that weren't mine that they forgot about needing to cast kids. Suddenly, I'm the hero of the drama department with one half-Polynesian kid down and only one to go. Half-Filipino is about as close as you can get in Ohio; I showed them a map and everything. I love being the solution to problems I create." Cooper slings an arm over Blaine’s shoulder and turns from the director to say to him, "You're welcome." 

The lack of humility is definitely familiar.

Blaine doesn’t know if May knew a half-Filipino actor would play her “all-American” GI when he was cast in the role, and he can’t read a reaction from her – he can never read any reactions from her – but he’s here now. The part is his. He’s pretty sure she can’t change her mind. He settles on a modest grin and letting his brother brag.

"You know, when Blaine auditioned for _South_ _Pacific_ the first time, he sang one of Nellie’s songs. ‘Cockeyed Optimist.’ It's the only solo that doesn't mention a guy." 

And he’s too gay for the role as well. At least May Hopkins seems no more interested in Cooper than she has ever seemed in Blaine.

“I don't know if that's adorable or sad or ironic," Tina teases.

May cracks a smile. Blaine counts it as a victory for one of them, but he isn’t sure which one.

“Do you want pictures from the production? I think his dad used half a roll of film before we were out the door.” Before he gets a response, Cooper produces printed pictures and shoves them toward his semi-unwilling audience. “Look how adorable we are.”

She hums noncommittally. But she doesn’t walk away either, which means Cooper is doing better than Blaine did this morning.

In the picture from Cooper’s high school, Cooper poses as the dashing lieutenant and Blaine stands in front of him smiling proudly. Cooper allowed it without shoving Blaine away, generous with the spotlight when Blaine, in his bit part with one song and only a few lines, was guaranteed not to outshine him.

On a closer look, little strips of colorful paper backing cling to the edges of the photos. Cooper must have pulled the pictures out of the scrapbook Blaine gave him. Gifts shouldn’t come with stipulations, but that doesn’t stop Blaine’s horror at knowing his is in pieces. “What… What happened to the book?”

Cooper shushes him. "And here I am in five other productions of _South Pacific_." 

Blaine sighs.

“Adorable, right?” Cooper winks and shuffles through half a dozen more pictures of himself in the lead role. Blaine’s stomach sinks each times he sees another picture of his brother in the role he has.

“Charming,” May responds drolly.

Blaine accepts the pictures and their torn paper backing when May passes the to him and extricates herself from Cooper’s conversation. He holds them gingerly even though the damage is already done. Blaine remembers taking those pictures. Cooper loved mugging for a camera. He was the star. The hero. Cooper posed for dramatic pose after dramatic pose. Jerome, the bit part Blaine played, wasn’t so clearly defined other than to further Nellie’s storyline. Blaine didn’t know how to pose other than to smile happily as himself. Cooper told him to figure out who his character was, and Blaine wasn’t sure. Who was this boy half a world away who was supposed to look like Blaine? Someone who sang for fun. Someone’s brother, but with a sister his age instead of a far older (half) brother. Someone who ended up with a blended family, like Cooper, with a new mom instead of a new dad. Who else was he? And was Blaine about to play him wrong if he didn’t know? Blaine’s introspective musing on his character gave Cooper all the more reason to shine. Blaine’s expression in the pictures shifts from smiling for the camera to deep in thought.

Cooper plucks the photos from Blaine’s hands. “Thanks. These really cinched it.”

Blaine bites his lip. It doesn’t stop him from saying, “You could’ve brought the whole book.”

“And look like an egomaniac?” Cooper tosses his hair. “Not a chance. It’s all about image. Come prepared, but not with a fucking scrapbook dedicated to you. Although I suppose I could have claimed it was given to me by a fan. Oh. Hmm.”

Doubt creeps in. Predictably, since Blaine has spent more than 24 hours with his _perfect_ older brother. Cooper is the quintessential mix of boyish ruggedness, believable as both a romantic lead and a kickass hero. Does he look like the Lieutenant Cable May Hopkins wants? And how does Blaine measure up?

Blaine wonders.

As rehearsal draws to a close around them and the actors begin to filter out, Blaine ducks away from Tina and calls Rachel.

“I need you to tell me that I’m being a paranoid theatre diva,” Blaine says by way of greeting.

“I’m going to put you on speaker phone so Mercedes can reassure you, too,” Rachel responds, her voice crackling through bad reception. “We are the experts on theatre divas.”

Mercedes’ voice comes through even more distantly. “Hi, Blaine. I will tell you you’re crazy when you get here. I’m driving and Rachel is distracting enough. Hold in the crazy for me?”

“But I don’t want Tina to…. Okay. Later.” Revealing secrets in front of Tina or Artie and his camera crewwill cause more drama than the advice is worth, but he can’t argue against driving safely.

He walks a few steps forward, but the worry nestles in a recess of Blaine’s mind. He should want his brother around, given how irregularly they see each other, but Cooper rarely hangs around unless he wants something, usually something of Blaine’s.

He shouldn’t bother Kurt. Now is not one of the few times of day where they’re both guaranteed to be available. His hand ends on the call button anyway.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s not important, but please talk to me and I’ll try to stop abusing your compulsion to pick up the phone when I call,” Blaine says by way of greeting. He meant to save calling Kurt for emergencies, but he misses having Kurt to process with him, to validate him, so intensely it feels dire.

“Talking to my husband is the _worst_ ,” Kurt teases. “Luckily I’ve bribed my coworkers with baked goods, so they’re feeling benevolent. You have 90-ish seconds for a pep talk before I need to promise more inventive bribes.”

“He’s always around. It’s like he’s up to something. That’s crazy, right?”

Kurt is smart enough to not respond affirmatively. He says more diplomatically, “Seeing Cooper more is the whole point of staying with him.”

“We’re at _rehearsal_. He just showed up and showing off, basically, and he’s trying to prove he’s better than me in my own show. This is just like how he used to be! Do you know how ridiculous it is for a teenager to be competitive with a toddler? I thought we would get over this, but it's only going to get worse."

Blaine idolized Cooper when they were growing up, but Cooper’s tolerance of him was fickle. Cooper’s high school version of _South Pacific_ was like Cooper invited Blaine into his world after years in which Blaine failed to live up to Cooper’s exacting standards. Blaine was so eager to impress, to prove he could be just as good. Cooper finally seemed to approve, as long as Blaine didn’t get in the way. It was all too brief before it was gone again and Cooper was right back to taking and breaking Blaine’s toys and scolding him for being such a baby about it. Anytime they got on good terms, they never could make it last.

"Hey. You can work on your relationship. That's one of the perks of this trip. You have all this time living together again. If you didn't get it right the first time, try again," Kurt soothes. 

Blaine takes a deep breath. He never knows what’s real and what’s in his mind when it comes to his brother. He remembers the older brother who used to steal his toys and he forgets how much time has passed.

"Maybe you need to connect again. You'll trust him more if you feel like you know him. Right now you're just sharing space." 

“I miss you,” Blaine admits even though it’s too soon to let himself pines. After hard work and missteps, he knows how to live with Kurt. He knows how to predict Kurt. He doesn’t worry about where he stands or what Kurt will do next. Their relationship is work, but it pays off. He was so excited to reconnect with his brother, but now he’s filled with doubt.

Kurt lets the silence hang between them for a moment. “Would you like me to cram more platitudes about figuring out how to be brothers in the 30 seconds we have left? Should I start quoting Tim Gunn? _Make it work?_ ”

“Right. You’re right.” Blaine doesn’t quite believe, but he has to let Kurt go. He can’t keep Kurt on the phone forever.

“As per usual,” Kurt teases.

“I’ll try to stop feeling like this. Wish me luck?”

“Break a leg!”

“It’s not a _performance_.” But maybe it is.

Blaine pockets his phone and jogs over to the rental car before Tina can notice he disappeared.

***

Rachel is all squeals and excitement when Blaine and Tina arrive at the condo she and Mercedes rent for the duration of their workshop, while Mercedes strolls toward them like the goddess of pop charts that she is, brightly colored and coiffed as ever with more hugs for everyone. They all crowd in the doorway, too excited to move into the open space. 

“New Directions reunion!” Mercedes cheers. “Come hug me faster!”

Rachel nearly drowns her out with excited babblings of, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Blaine bounces excitedly with her. He hugs them both even tighter. So many people he loves dearly in one room. Kurt is going to be so envious.

"What did I say about touching reunions when the camera isn't rolling?"  Artie scolds a moment later, pushing his way in only to be enveloped into the group hug and his camera enveloped with him. Jane, Madison, and Mason happily join in.

Rachel beckons them past the entryway. “Who needs high school reunions when musical theatre does the same trick? Holy crap, look how many there are of you! Artie talked you all into this?" She gestures vaguely to the cameras the younger generation of New Directions alums each hold.

"I needed minions." Artie waves dismissively. His assistants don’t seem to mind.

"It seemed like it would be something special," Jane says. 

"We wanted in," Mason adds. 

"Between the three of us, we'll all end up on camera somehow." Madison points the camera at Jane, who spins to point hers at Mason. Artie rolls his eyes at the three of them. They all stand too close to make up for the times when they aren’t overinvolved with each other.

“Tell us about the show!” Tina demands with her arm still around Mercedes.

“The show is more than a fever dream. Who knew?” Mercedes laughs. “You’ll have to check it out while you’re here. It’s still changing every night, but we’re getting there. We’re not completing re-writing everything anymore, which is progress. I’m using all the star power I have to make this the show I want it to be.”

“It’s thrilling to watch Mercedes get her way,” Rachel agrees with a note of pride in her voice. “You don’t go platinum twice without knowing what you’re doing. You should see it, really. It’s like a show within a show, but instead of a will they/won’t they romance, you get will they/won’t they fund it.”

Mercedes lets the compliment roll off her. “Our producers either have opinions or _reservations,_ and even a trial run like this is so expensive. And of course we don’t want it to end here. They want to make money based on what’s been done before; we want to make art and do something new. Like Mercedes Jones, this show is one hundred percent original.”

“It’s a classic struggle, but imagine if it goes well! It would be so good to be back on Broadway with one of my dear friends.” Rachel shares an excited smile with Mercedes.

“As great as when Santana briefly understudied for you?” Tina asks.

Rachel shoots her a warning look. For a moment she looks just as insecure as she did back then.

Tina is unaffected. “So, ladies, I have made on my phone a list of all potential items up for negotiation that we should sort out now to prevent friendship-harming altercations later on. Feel free to add, okay?”

Rachel and Mercedes look over with mild interest and reservations. Blaine listens in as well.

“Okay. Interviews. Attention of hot costars – and don’t tell me it doesn’t matter, Rachel! Sick days and vacation days. Dressing rooms.” Tina stops her list at the unusual silence from her friends. “Nothing you feel strongly about yet?”

“We’ve just resolved not to fight,” Mercedes says simply.

Blaine and Cooper could use a similar policy. Maybe Blaine should have made a list of everything they could fight over before inviting himself into Cooper’s home for several weeks.

“And to take over the dressing room reserved for the male lead since _we’re_ the stars,” Rachel adds.

“But I made an itemized list!” Tina protests.

“It’ll be fine.” Mercedes looks to Rachel for confirmation.

Tina rolls her eyes. “I’m going to put ‘I told you so’ by each one of these.”

“We can behave!” Rachel says.

“We’ve competed directly before and come out of it stronger than before,” Mercedes adds. “Working together will make us stronger than undermining each other.”

Blaine morosely thinks about Cooper again. They’ve spent Blaine’s whole life in competition. Cooper claimed he was making Blaine better by being hard on him. That it was affection and not resentment that filled Blaine with doubt in his own abilities. Blaine accepted Cooper’s apology and thought he moved on. It’s been years.

While she talks, Mercedes picks up a flat package from the counter. She peeks inside and in an instant, the cheer drains from her expression.

“What’s that?” Rachel peers over Mercedes’ shoulder at the mocked up window card for their show. “Ooh, come look, look at cute little cartoon me! I’ve always wanted an animated likeness ever since I saw the end of _Enchanted_ when they go into the fairytale kingdom.”

Mercedes looks horrified. “Oh, no. I didn’t write myself a musical to be someone else’s shadow.”

At the sound of drama, the former New Directions crowd around. 

“That’s supposed to be you?” Tina tugs the poster closer. The poster centers on a gorgeously stylized version of Rachel with a curvy black shadow behind her. “That’s what your _creative_ team came up with?”

“I guess they were trying to be clever?” Blaine winces even as he says it. Rachel is the focus. Mercedes is the afterthought without a face. He knows who he’d rather be.

“That’s like bottom of the barrel.” Tina makes a face. "It's a nicely-styled hackneyed idea, but really?"

Rachel grows somber when she realizes her own enthusiasm is not matched by Mercedes. She folds her hands, unsure for a moment. “I’m sure I’ll look fantastic in an alternative version, too!”

Mercedes sighs. “This isn’t me trying to take anything away from you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a weird blob either. If we both demand something new, they can think we’re both divas. It’s fine. At least it’s fair. We’ll get this fixed. If they can make me cute once, they can do it again for both of us!”

Mercedes nods her agreement and turns the unflattering window card face down on the counter.

To the rest of the room, Rachel insists proudly, “See, handling problems maturely isn’t that hard.”

“What were you going to ask about earlier, Blaine?” Mercedes asks.

Blaine sits up straighter as soon as he’s put on the spot. He can’t help a sideways glance at Tina and the cameras.

“New Directions drama already?” Mercedes asks knowingly. Wherever there's a New Directions reunion, there's drama. One begets the other. 

“What is there to compete over? I have no lines. I don’t even get a song.” Tina sulks.

Blaine hesitates knowing how eager Artie is for drama to fuel his storytelling.  “It’s Cooper. He wouldn’t…. I shouldn’t even say. It's probably nothing. He’s too old for Lieutenant Cable.”

“Early thirties isn’t the same as a fine almost 40,” Tina says.

“Stop that,” Blaine groans automatically.

“Don’t be paranoid, Blainey Days,” she says more sweetly. “He could be angling for plenty of roles besides yours.”

“And he can’t steal it away if you don’t screw up.” Madison doesn’t sound entirely convinced.

“You don’t know Cooper.” Rules don’t apply to Cooper. Logic doesn’t either.

“Why are you so threatened by him? You’re brothers. If you like one, you like the other. Believe me. Believe _Tina_ ,” Rachel teases.

“He fits the role. He’s the guy directors wish they had,” Blaine says. Cooper has a way of getting to the center of attention. He has pushed Blaine aside on the way to get there before.

“Even if he gets into the chorus, he’ll have more lines than me.” Tina grumbles.“Did I dream her into being a bigger role? I thought I would have a substantial part.”

“May Hopkins is kind of a big deal. He probably just wants close to her,” Mercedes says. “She’ll have a lot of other projects after this, and she’s based in LA like he is.”

“It’s tempting. If actors are just dropping by…” Rachel hints.

Mercedes cuts her off. “There will be an appropriate venue for us to meet her. Turning rehearsal into Grand Central won’t make Tina and Blaine look like professionals who have had real jobs before.”

Blaine needs to have that talk with Cooper too, although Cooper should know best given his years of experience, and serious conversations with Cooper are a struggle.

“Still. I don’t blame him for trying to get close. That’s likely all it is.” Rachel pats at Blaine’s arm.

“People can become less selfish with age.” Artie says, and Blaine can’t help looking at Rachel and thinking of the scene he just witnessed. In another time and place for them, it would have ended completely differently for them.

“Ouch on both accounts.” Rachel pouts. Tina offers her a hug and a sympathetic glare at Artie.

Blaine wrings his hands in his lap. If it's all in his mind, as all of his friends seem to think, and Cooper was just proudly showing off pictures from their childhood, then he can add "think better of your brother" to his self-improvement to-do list. He'll make amends - not that Cooper knows they were on less than favorable terms - when he returns to Cooper’s home. 


	5. Chapter 5

Tina and Blaine return to Cooper’s late into the night. The visit with high school friends weighs on Blaine’s mind; especially Mercedes and Rachel’s fight that ended before it began. In high school, they would have verbally ripped each other to pieces. They’ve matured even in a relatively short timeframe. In contrast, Blaine’s jealousy at Cooper’s intrusion on his show is a blast from the past. Cooper used to take his toys, but they should be 15 years beyond that. Maybe Cooper has changed and yet Blaine continues to assume he will keep right on taking what is Blaine’s. Maybe Kurt and all of Blaine’s friends are right. As they pointed out, Cooper could have plenty of other reasons to want to stop by rehearsal and chat with the director while there. Blaine is the one who assumed the worst.

“Don’t fall asleep on the road,” Tina teases to break the quiet.

It’s been a full day. Worries about his director. Worries about Cooper. Elation that he’s here. The pining for Kurt in the back of his mind that never completely goes away. It’s all exhausting in a way, but not conducive to sleep. They’re in no danger of that.

“My thoughts are noisy.” Blaine casts a quick glance away from the road to catch her eye. “You have my full invitation to be noisier.”

“Hold on, I’ve got the perfect thing.” With a little fiddling with her iPod and the car’s sound system, an upbeat song floods the car, and Tina’s voice follows.

“ _I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan / Welcome to the land of fame, excess, whoa, am I gotta fit in?_ ”

Blaine laughs at the predictable song choice for temporary Los Angeles transplants.

“Less laughing, more singing!” Tina turns up the volume and prods him until he sings along with her.

“ _This is all so crazy, everybody seems so famous / My tummy's turnin' and I'm feelin' kinda homesick / Too much pressure and I'm nervous_.”

A song’s ability to shift his mood can be a blessing or a curse, but tonight he is grateful at how quickly his mood lifts. Blaine’s worries acknowledged in the song get transformed in the joy that is about to follow, no longer bottled up, waiting to implode. He and Tina get to the chorus and they belt.

“ _Got my hands up, they're playin' my song / And now I'm gonna be okay_!” And he believes it. He’ll be okay. He’ll fix the rift between him and Cooper that Cooper probably doesn’t even know is there, and they can actually start over this time. No more resentment, no more assuming the worst. He decided to stay at Cooper’s to rebuild their relationship, and they’ll do just that.

They pull up to Cooper’s house. Cooper leaves on the porch light for them as further proof that he can be considerate.

Blaine launches himself at Cooper as soon as they’re through the front door. Cooper catches him with open arms. He humors Blaine with a pat on his head. "Hey, buddy, how bad do you miss Kurt right now? Has Tina not hugged you enough today?"

"I haven't really seen you this whole time. I never really see you." Who Cooper is to him is mostly memory. He doesn’t know who Cooper is now. How can he, with how little they see each other? But he can fix that.

Cooper ruffles Blaine’s hair, which Blaine suspects will be a new habit as long as he lets it curl freely. “Reminds me of your needy phase when I couldn’t shake you off. _South Pacific_ brings it out in you, huh? It’s the dramatic off-stage death, isn’t it?”

Right after their first _South Pacific_ , Cooper started all his plans to go away to college – a short-lived endeavor but Blaine didn’t know that at the time. Blaine doesn’t remember being needy, although he probably was, and a nuisance in the way that substantially younger siblings often are as more of a responsibility than a playmate. He remembers not wanting to let go of the time when they were a team. A team where he had to do everything Cooper said, but Cooper occasionally praised him for a job well done, insisted he was the only one in the cast who was allowed to find Blaine tagging along annoying, and told him if he tried hard, he could one day play anyone he wanted. At the time, Blaine thought their relationship was changed for the better forever, or it could be if he kept reminding Cooper. But then the show was over, Cooper left, and Blaine spent the next several years growing up alone.

"I want in!" Tina announces. She wiggles under their arms. They shift until they’re more huddle than hug.

Cooper squeezes both of them. “I’m so mentally bookmarking this for audition material. Long day at rehearsal, kids?”

A long day in Blaine’s brain of too much worry and second-guessing. Like regressing not just to college, but even further back to high school. “Can we pencil in that ‘talk about our core wounds’ session?”

Cooper gives him a too knowing look. “If it’s too hard for you to be here, I’m sure they’ll understand. Better to let them know early when it’s still easy to replace you.”

“No, of course not!” Blaine forces himself to step back before the hugging gets too weird, and to stand on his own a little. Like Rick Astley, no way would he give this up. “I love it here. I have my brother and my best friend, and I’ll have my husband soon enough. I have an awesome opportunity I’m not going to throw away. It’s all good. It’s amazing.”

“If you say so. Hey, no spoilers, just so I can prepare, which one of your insecurities do you really want to hone in on in this chat?”

Blaine laughs. What a list he could make. "How about we hang out a little before you two run off to bump uglies and call that good enough?"

"I'll have you know we're both very pretty everywhere we bump." Cooper winks. 

Blaine’s nose wrinkles. "Please go no further with that."

"So demanding." Cooper taps his nose. "The is the fun kind of over-sharing that no one has to go to therapy for afterwards."

"Speak for – " The teasing sounds brattier than he means it to and he cuts himself off. Too many snipping remarks about Tina and Cooper’s relationship, even though this one is meant to be teasing, will only put him at odds with them, which is just as bad as he fears being torn between them will be. Tina is not one of Blaine’s toys that Cooper is taking away, and it’s gross to even think that. With a too innocent look, he tries a new tactic. “Actually, never mind. My therapist already knows I’ve always wanted a sister.”

Tina gapes at him and then laughs. “You little shit, not everyone proposed within the first week of dating!”

“See how much fun this is?” Blaine grins. Cooper’s not the only one who can tease.

“Yeah, yeah. Aren’t you cute.” Cooper swipes at Blaine’s hair again. “You sure you’re okay being here, all the way from home and Kurt and, um, all the falafel stands? Sinkholes, rats, unnaturally large bugs? Help me out, Tina. What else is there to miss in New York?”

“You don’t need to worry about me giving up on a dream to be more comfortable. I’m so, completely committed.”

“If you say so.” Cooper doesn’t look too convinced. Too soon for Blaine’s liking, Cooper pulls away and Tina with him. “Hey, rain check on that feelings thing for the morning?”

Blaine nods and lets them go. He’ll have more chances. They have weeks.

With Tina and Cooper secluding themselves, Blaine has a mostly empty house to himself again. Blaine’s daily routine with Kurt ends with debriefing their respective days over skin cleansers and turns brushing their teeth. Without it, Blaine’s day feels incomplete, but it’s too late to expect Kurt to be awake to listen to how Blaine’s trials resolved themselves. He’ll save waking Kurt in the middle of the night for emergency demands for attention. Blaine scrubs away the debris of the day and whistles to himself for company. It feels like it's been ages since he talked with Kurt, but they spoke just a few hours ago. Not as long, or as intimately as Blaine would like, but he can try again tomorrow.

At the reminder that relationships are work, and inspired by the steady stream of post-it love notes unearthed from his suitcase when he changes into pajamas, Blaine stays up late building an origami menagerie for Kurt in his room. It’s slow, careful work. He reminds himself of the folds needed for the crane and a few other birds. A fish comes back to him after a few missteps. He looks up other designs. A few more sea creatures to go with the theme. A puppy that looks like Margaret Thatcher dog. A star because Rachel doesn’t have exclusive rights to them and it seems fitting. Blaine puts a heart on each paper animal.

_To Kurt Hummel, c/o Isabelle Wright,_ Blaine prints neatly on the oversized envelope bound for New York. Isabelle, the only person in their lives responsible enough to entrust with their spare key, and the only one Blaine can expect to still be awake at this hour, promises over text to sneak into the apartment while Kurt is gone to plant them like Easter eggs before the hunt. If Isabelle hides them well enough, Kurt will keep discovering them until Blaine returns. Blaine may not be great at expressing himself, but Kurt deserves a kind of love note too. Even with all the reminders Kurt already has of Blaine throughout their apartment, this will give him something new.

_I’d give the world to you,_ Blaine writes on one of the stars. He asks Isabelle to leave that one somewhere obvious so Kurt will understands what he means.

***

Blaine invites Cooper and Tina to jog with him in the mornings, but both turn him down for more time with each other. Rather than begrudge them their sudden romance, Blaine commits nearly every moment of his days to making himself ready for his role, from working out more than he ever has in his life – Blaine will always be slight, but he can become more defined – to serenading Kurt long-distance with songs from _South Pacific_ while Kurt works on his craft projects, humming along. Even if Cooper isn’t making a play for Blaine’s role and Blaine is making it all up in his mind, Blaine can still be the best Lieutenant Cable he can be. The most encouraging words from his director so far are, “you’re getting there, Anderson.” Blaine plays those words over and over in his mind. He’s getting there.

Progress with Cooper isn’t as steady. Blaine doesn’t feel right with his lingering unease toward Cooper after that first _South Pacific_ rehearsal. He has always wanted them to be on better terms. This doesn’t have to be like high school or his childhood. He doesn’t have to second-guess everything his brother does. He just has to convince himself to stop. He needs tactics. Something to help him follow through on fixing their relationship so they have one again.

He waits until a rehearsal day where Tina isn’t needed and Cooper stays home with her to pull Jake aside during a break. “Do you have time to talk?”

Artie and his crew watch, as always, Artie in his thoughtful director pose with his hand on his chin. Blaine can’t tune them out. Some part of him is always aware that he’s being monitored for something that will add drama or intrigue. Artie gestures for Madison to get a better angle.

Jake is nonplussed at the urgency in Blaine’s voice, as usual. "You want to reconvene the Biracial Younger Brothers of Attention Whores club you tried to get me to join in high school?"

"We could've come up with a cooler name, and I would've let you be president so I wouldn't look like I was just making things up to round out my college applications," Blaine wheedles, even if it hardly matters now.

"I don't even want to know what your high school résumé looked like." 

"Rachel and I debated convening an unbiased panel of judges to determine whose was more impressive, but we kept vetoing each other’s nominees. How are things with you and Puck?" 

"You curious, or is this really about you?" 

"I want to know," Blaine says a little too quickly. Which is true, even if it’s not his motivation for asking.

"I don’t think much has changed for us since high school other than knowing each other better. He's coming out for the show. We made a point of staying in touch. It’s cool. "

Envy springs up. It sounds so easy when Jake describes it. Blaine had the benefit of growing up with his brother: they should be years ahead of the Puckermans in figuring out how to deal with each other. "How do you keep from feeling like you're constantly in competition?"

Jake regards him in bemusement. "I don't know if you noticed, but Puck’s not much of a dancer." 

Blaine deflates. Neither he nor Cooper will willingly leave behind performing arts. Cooper is far more likely to try to convince Blaine than the reverse. Neither of them should have to give anything up.

“Look, I don’t really know you anymore, and I’ve never met your brother, and I really don’t want to get pulled into the wake of whatever high school-esque drama you and Tina dragged with you since I’ve moved on, but good luck working out your thing.” He pats Blaine on the shoulder and gets back into position.

Well, add Jake to the list of people don't necessary want to be his best friend. Blaine keeps smiling politely until Jake looks away. Blaine feels more lost than a moment ago. He wasted a break on a dead end when he could have called and at least listened to Kurt’s voicemail for comfort instead. Blaine has moved on too – he thinks defensively of how much he's grown up since he and Jake were teammates – but that doesn't make him think they can't be friends. 

**Blaine:** _Attention, please._ (11:32 AM)

But asking for attention doesn’t automatically deliver it. Kurt remains busy while Blaine stares at his phone.

Rehearsal begins again, and the sailors have to wait around for Blaine to get the blocking of his entrance and follow scene right, so Blaine focuses wholly on the task at hand and puts everything Blaine Anderson out of mind. He has too much work to do to obsess over the number of people who don't like him as much as he would like. If he tries hard enough, he’ll finally impress his director one of these days.

***

“Don’t you get enough rehearsal at rehearsal?” Tina asks when Blaine gets home and suggests they run lines on their own.

“You know I like to be prepared.” Especially now that it matters most.

“Uh huh. Still trying to win May over?”

“It’s too good of an opportunity not to take advantage.” Their director’s indifference is maddening, so Tina is more right than he’d like, but he’ll have to win approval from more than just May. He can imagine the offer calls all too well, all beginning with praise for his brilliant interpretation of a classic. The daydream might not come true, but its chances are better if he works as hard as he can. The more he practices, the closer he’ll be to perfection, and the closer he’ll be to endearing himself to their director. “Getting off book at this point is impressive, right?”

“Flatterer.” Her grin lets him know it works. Tina is off book already, and either proud or angry enough of it to remind the rest of them frequently.

“I want to be next.” Blaine won’t go completely off book unless he knows he can do it right. He has to prove it to himself first.

“Well, good, because _for you_ it’ll seem impressive. For me it seems lazy. I have to follow along with everyone else to prove I’m not just staring off into space and _then_ put the script down when it’s finally my turn just to prove I don’t need it.”

“I think it’s impressive,” Blaine tells her sincerely. She puts the rest of them to shame in rehearsals. She’s talented. More talented than anyone else gets to see.

“I already agreed to run lines with you,” Tina teases. “Save your flattery for when you need it.”

At Tina’s insistence that work during the time set aside for play needs to be poolside, they retreat to their rooms to get ready. Blaine finds another message from Kurt tucked into Kurt’s favorite pair of Blaine’s board shorts. 

_Feeling hot? ;)_ A second note reads, _I miss you even more now._ Blaine adds them to his Kurt shrine built up from a dozen other messages tucked into the suitcase.

Blaine changes quickly and reaches for the sunscreen. His own reflection in the vanity stops him. He runs in the early mornings just as bare for the sake of avoiding silly tan lines, but no one he knows has been given the chance to comment on his new, non-waxed look. He doesn’t mind the look on other people; only when it comes to himself. It’s nice not to devote as much time to it or worry about being found out as an image-obsessed freak who can’t properly follow through on making himself look nicer, but now he worries how it looks. Oh, to be flawless with out all the work. If only he could wake up like Beyoncé.

Blaine checks down the hallway for any unsuspected observers, especially ones with cameras. He stays half-hidden behind the guest room door and calls in a stage whisper for Tina to come over. The door is barely ajar as he asks, "What do you think?" 

She whistles and he laughs. "I’m sure you’re very cute when you’re not hiding."

"Don't let the cameras see." He steps out of the way only long enough to let her inside his room. "You can tell me what you actually think, but not on camera, okay? Just tell me if I need to fix this so it doesn't become a _thing_ that sucks up all our rehearsal time." Cooper will tease because that's how he is with Blaine, but if it doesn't bother Blaine - if Blaine can _act_ like it doesn't bother him - then it'll be over quickly. With Tina’s approval he’ll at least know not to take Cooper completely seriously.

"Aww, I didn't know you could grow that." She pets at him like he’s a skittish puppy.

"Good." Not that he has spent a lot of time half-naked around Tina, but, well, actors and boundaries.

“It’s kinda cute!” She reassures. “Especially if you’re calling me over to borrow a razor; we’re close, but we’re not _that_ close.”

Blaine hums his disbelief.

“Okay, Bee, how many compliments will it take to convince you? It’s fine.”

“I’m not fishing. You have my permission to be honest. I’d rather hear it from you than a Broadway World dot com forum.” All that scrutiny, immortalized forever. Far more scrutiny than just Artie and his crew give. And thanks to high definition, he might as well put himself under a microscope and invite strangers to find new flaws for him. What if the incoming chest stubble makes a weird pattern? Or is uneven? He tilts his head left and then right. His opinion changes depending on the angle – does that mean he’s fine?

“I _am_ being honest.” Tina tuts at him. “Just trying to figure out the threshold for getting you to believe me for a decision you _apparently_ made for yourself.”

“You know I’m trying out your whole ‘obsess less’ idea,” he says primly.

Tina side eyes him hard. “Right. Changing into what you just so happen to think May Hopkins wants you to be is ‘obsessing less.’ Sure. Totally believable. You’re suddenly historically accurate and up at dawn every morning because of a _casual_ interest in your appearance.”

“That’s not…” He flounders how to finish his protest. “Lots of people go jogging,” Blaine protests weakly. “It’s a hobby. I’m keeping myself busy. So I don’t miss home too much.” 

He doesn’t convince either of them. She pats at his cheek. “Have your reasons. Just don’t lie to yourself about what they are.”

She starts down the hall without him. He jogs to catch up.

“I’m not…” Of course the role is part of it, but it sounds more obsessive the way Tina puts it. He’s not obsessive; he’s a professional who is considerate about the choices he makes. He’ll get a line, maybe two, in the write-ups of the show centered on someone far more famous. Those couple lines of print could make or break his career. He won’t let it be about how he’ll never pass as a marine with how slight he is, or how his commitment to his appearance means he’s too gay to play straight. ~~~~

Tina kindly offers him an out by asking, "Has Kurt seen? Kurt is great for an ego boost. He thinks everything you do is cute."

"I've kinda been on the other side of the country from him." 

"We have the technology. Let me take a picture." 

Blaine shakes his head. "Absolutely not." 

Tina’s phone is already out. She beckons him outside into the sun. “You’ve been married three years; no way he never noticed. I know for a fact your brother waxes too and that only took a few days to pick up on.”

“Let me keep my delusions.” It’s hardly the most compromising situation Kurt has seen him in, but he has spent years pretending he just naturally looks like how he lets Kurt see him.

Tina gets a wicked gleam in her eye. "Do you also pretend Kurt doesn't know you poop?" 

Blaine gives his best too-polite-to-comment look.

"Everybody poops, Blaine. Even guys who look like Disney princes brought to life. Nobody is so perfect that they skip right over that."

Despite his best efforts not to react, Blaine wrinkles his nose. Sometimes he wonders how conversations with Tina get so weird, and which one of them is most at fault. "Thank you for that insight."

“Fine. I’ll stand at a distance or let the sun wash you out if that’ll make you happy; It won’t be noticeable until Kurt watches Artie’s documentary. Or, you know, sees you in person.”

At the mention of sun, Blaine twists off the cap to the sunscreen he diligently applies before each trip outside to bring with them. He pours some out and works it into his skin. It gives him something to do with his hands besides wringing them. And more time to get used to himself before the cameras show up. Even with Tina’s approval, he isn’t sure about the new look. Ultimately, though, his feelings about himself don’t matter. There's the way he wants to look, and there's the way he should look for this role.

Tina taps between his shoulder blades. "You have fingerprints on you. Or red streaks. It’s like you’re blooming. Cracking open." 

Blaine groans. His thorough application of sunscreen wasn't thorough enough. “I can’t go onstage with a weird patchwork tan. It’ll be super distracting.” The whole point of slathering up each morning and running half-naked through the streets of West Hollywood like he’s god’s douchey gift to early risers and insomniacs is preventing looking silly later.

"I've got this." Tina snatches the sunscreen from him and squeezes a generous amount into her palm. "The streaks should be gone by the time you're showing off half-naked for thousands of people in one go. And if not, that’s what makeup is for.”

Blaine twists at the phantom itch between his shoulders, even though a moment ago he didn’t know the burn existed. Tina shushes him with soothing noises and a lot of sunscreen.

"Poolside rehearsal? Tina Cohen-Chang, you are a gift. A true filmmaker's dream. Elevated from dreary to dreamy in one quick scene change." Artie and his crew descend upon Cooper’s back courtyard in a flurry of cameras and boom microphones.

Blaine wonders if Tina’s insistence on their location was part of a plan to assure Artie’s and the cameras’ attendance.

“My one critique is you rubbing in lotions without waiting for us to set up.” Artie tuts his disappointment.

Tina lightly taps Blaine’s shoulders to let him know she’s done applying sunscreen. "You can ask for help in the mornings before you run and I go back to sleep, you know.”

"You're helping me out enough." Running lines benefits him far more, as he has far more to learn.

"Your friendship is such an imposition." Tina rolls her eyes. "Do me next." 

Cooper bursts outside like he’s been summoned. “I volunteer as tribute!” He hip-checks Blaine out of the way.

“Keep it classy, Coop.”

“We’re striving to keep this documentary out of the depths of _boring hand-wringing_. Oh, hey, Blaine. We’ll figure out a way for you to contribute, too.”

“Thanks?”

“Besides your impression as the world’s tiniest caveman, cuz that’s a gift that’s gonna keep on giving.”

“Early humans were shorter than we are now. I’d be tall.” Blaine looks at his brother with put upon haughtiness, like scientific fact is a great comeback. Kurt once called it his ‘country club sass act’ out of annoyance for being on the receiving end, which made them both crack up in the middle of bickering. The nickname for his politely offended face stuck.

Cooper is too distracted by Tina to tease any further, and Blaine takes the opportunity to open his umbrella and hide under it for the shade, looking silly now to save him from looking silly later. He paces along the edge of the pool, twirling the umbrella as he goes. He dangles a foot over the water. _People change._ It's going to be his new mantra. Cavemen grow taller and smarter, brothers grow up, and a little teasing doesn't mean anything deeper. Expressing affection by being mean has never made sense to Blaine, but it happens. With Cooper, it happens a lot.

Blaine picks where the boundaries of his imaginary stage will be. The pool edge can be downstage, and the lounge chairs can be upstage. Tina, now covered in more sunscreen that strictly necessary, situates herself regally in a pool float and waves Blaine to the pool edge with an outstretched hand. “Let’s do this. I can take the script now.”

Cooper dives into the deep end. Splashes of water land at Blaine’s feet. Blaine brushes them away.

"Watch out for the script!" Tina splashes Cooper in retribution with the script clutched to her chest.

"You're supposed to be off book.” Cooper shakes droplets from his hair.

"We'll probably still need it," Tina says.

Cooper splashes at Blaine again, this time most definitely intentionally. "I think a marine is allowed to get a little sun. A little color will be good for you."

Blaine holds his umbrella like a shield. "Sunscreen is supposed to set."

Cooper splashes a few more times at Blaine’s feet, but his heart isn’t in it. “You’re uptight even about the sun? Really?”

“All part of obsessing less, right?” Tina needles. “Not at all about being the version of you that you think May Hopkins wants best?”

“Ah, we’re in one of those what won’t Blaine do for love scenarios. Hey, let me give you some industry insight on that, free of charge because you’re my brother. The trick is to think of what their expectation are, and then be the _opposite_ of that. Boom! Defenses down, and they’re startled into liking you. You’ll never impress anyone by _trying_ to get them to like you.”

“Thanks, Coop.” Blaine briefly wonders if Cooper is intentionally attempting sabotage but quickly puts it past him.

From her raft rocking against Cooper’s waves, Tina skips ahead to the right scene. “Ready! I’ll tell you when you’re wrong, Blaine,” she promises.

They pick up after the fade to black and back in which Cable loses his shirt. Liat and Cable have been intimate and now it’s time to leave paradise.

“ _I guess that’s the boat calling me back_ ,” Blaine says.

“ _No, no_.”

“What’s the line, then?” Blaine asks in a voice dropped to a whisper. He always wants to say ‘bell’, since a bell is supposed to ring. It’s the lines he messes up most, but he’s pretty sure he said ‘boat.’

“That’s my line. _No_ is like half of my lines. You’re fine. Keep going.”

“Right.” Unlike Cooper, Blaine knows he should pay attention to his scene partners. He should know her lines too.

“You’re doing great, Tina!” Cooper calls. Blaine’s compliment doesn’t come. But Tina is great, so he smiles for her and wonders what he’ll have to do to get into his brother’s good graces. Stop being so melodramatic as to think he’s outside them, probably.

“Um. _That’s the boat all right. Oh, let them wait_.”

The blocking requires Blaine catch Tina when Liat rushes into Cable’s embrace. Instead, Tina drops her script with a sigh. “I guess if Liat can only know five words, _no_ is one of the better ones.”

“Sorry. I’d ask Cooper to run lines with me, but then _he’d_ want to be Lieutenant Cable, which doesn’t really help me with learning my lines.” Blaine can’t help stealing a glance at his brother’s unreadable expression at the joke. He hopes for a laugh. He’ll even accept Cooper looking offended. He thought he could count on Cooper to overact. Or react at all.

Blaine begins to suspect Kurt is the only one who finds him funny.

“And Rachel and Mercedes have their fabulous so-off-Broadway-it’s-on-the-wrong-coast rehearsals, so you can’t ask them, and Kurt has his actual-off-Broadway thing.” Tina says. “I get it. Everyone else has a sweet gig.”

“You’ve got Cooper, at least?” Cooper is between theatrical and advertising jobs at the moment, living off the money his accountant smartly releases to him like an allowance, and Cooper is only too happy to always be around Tina. Despite Blaine’s initial reservations, at least they keep each other happy.

"Did you just offer me a man instead of a career?" Tina asks, mostly teasing but with a hard enough edge that Blaine better answer carefully.

"...No? No, of course not." 

She needles him further with, "Because not _all_ of us are content with the adoration of one hottie to fulfill all wants and needs from now until the end of time. I want fans. Legions of them."

"I'm not saying you should be either.” Once upon a time, Blaine was bemused by the ‘aspiring househusband’ joke his friends tell about him, but the joke repeats enough that it feels like it makes him someone he's not for the sake of their own amusement. Like wanting Kurt so obviously means nothing else can possibly matter. Like saying, “I do” at 20 was the only promise he would make himself. He may love Kurt intensely and recklessly, but his career is also who he is. Blaine isn't done wanting things from life after marrying Kurt. Blaine is all the way across the country from Kurt because he couldn't stop himself from wanting this opportunity. “Just trying to look on the bright side. You have someone to cuddle with every night instead of a phone and a right hand.”

His joke earns him a passing smile. “How long until Kurt visits? Did you decide?”

“Too long.”

“I need to find something more. Even the _promise_ of something more. There’s only so much swaying in the background a person can take.” Tina sighs wistfully. “And Liat could be a sweet gig. She just needs something to do besides moon silently. It matters that Cable changes, but Liat decides she doesn't want anyone else somehow. We’ve got three scenes to milk something out of." 

“Are you going for world’s longest dramatic pause?” Cooper calls from his end of the pool. “I should warn you that the Guinness Book of World Records doesn’t track that one.”

“I’ll start a petition,” Tina reassures Cooper.  To Blaine, she demands, "You heard the man. Stop the pausing and start the serenading.”

Blaine pauses a moment to remember where he left off. It was at Lieutenant Cable deciding whether he should stay or go. “ _Oh, let them wait_ ,” he murmurs as the words come back to him.

Cooper beckons Tina into the water. "Ditch the script: I'll tell him when he's wrong. I could sing that song in my sleep."

Tina sets the script onto the floating lounge chair and slips in with barely a splash. Blaine loses his scene partner to wet butterfly kisses with Cooper, and wow, that's a side of Cooper he hasn't seen before. Not that he make a habit of tagging along on Cooper’s dates until recently, and that one time over 15 years ago when their mom couldn't find a sitter. He wonders whether rubbing noses to show affection is a learned behavior from a source Blaine has forgotten or if it's a shared something in them. 

If Blaine has to watch, Tina and Cooper are kind of cute together. Nothing Blaine should get emotionally invested in given their personalities, but they oddly work together. Or work together through mutual oddness. Blaine misses having someone to be odd with. They way Tina and Cooper humor each other feels so familiar. Coming to terms with them goes hand in hand with his own loneliness, it seems. Being obnoxiously, intensely in love is Blaine’s forte, and maybe they’re not there yet, but being apart from Kurt cements in Blaine’s mind how oblivious he’s going to be to everything and everyone else as soon as Kurt arrives.

Blaine imagines an orchestra and begins. " _I touch your hands / and my arms grow strong_." 

Blaine sings to Tina, but she only has eyes for Cooper. Tina flexes and then laughs at herself. Cooper joins in. Blaine might as well be singing to someone who isn’t there.

" _My eyes look down / at your lovely face._ "

The blocking requires Blaine reach out for someone who isn't there to reach back. He doesn't mind playing pretend. Ignoring Tina and Cooper will be good practice for a live audience, and most songs remind him of Kurt. The first touch of Kurt’s hand on a staircase changed Blaine’s life. Suddenly courage wasn't just a mantra to get through the day. Each time they touched, Kurt looked at him like the world was new. He couldn't keep his hands to himself. He had a whole world to show Kurt. “You've Got to be Carefully Taught” is uncomfortably frank on a subject he was taught wasn't polite to discuss, and “My Girl Back Home” is bittersweet, but “Younger than Springtime” is the easiest thing for Blaine. Being made better, stronger, divine, at the touch of a hand is something he’s tried to express for years.

Cooper mimes his way through the lyrics. Not to be outdone, Tina gesticulates wildly and splashes water in both their faces. Somehow they're in sync in their overwroughtness. With his umbrella in hand, Blaine drops to dangle his feet over the edge of the pool, kicking his feet to the beat.

Tina starts with wordless backup harmonies when he hits the iconic words from the title of the song, creating a fuller sound for Blaine’s a capella poolside rendition. The canon is well known enough that a few theatregoers singing along isn't out of the question. Blaine doesn’t tune her out, but he focuses on what he needs to do and what words of adoration need to come next.

Tina joins him when the lyrics repeat in reverse and all the praise and adoration direction toward her becomes about how he changes too. “ _Younger than springtime. Gayer than laughter.”_ She drops out for him to say, " _am I_ " at the end of each line, like she's singing to him with he self-reflects.  She looks at Cooper like he's just as divine as the lyrics say. “ _Angel and lover, heaven and earth.”_

Blaine gestures for her to take the repeated line without him. They finish together in an unrehearsed harmony.

"Wow," Blaine murmurs. He adores a good rearrangement. A remix that makes the song seem new. He appreciates the song in a new way with Tina highlighting lines with her gorgeous upper register. All of the lines she chooses repeat are lines he says first. Liat could actually have those lines. 

Blaine grins at the possibilities for her.

"Now do a _Dirty Dancing_ flourish," Cooper insists. “It’s a waste of a large body of water and a companion you can lift not to pay homage.”

"Oh my god, yes! Can you?” Tina asks. “I'm not exactly ballerina sized." 

Cooper smirks and then lifts her over his head in the water. Tina cackles in surprised delight. Water shimmers in the fading light. They crash into the water in a fit of giggles.

“We did it!” Tina crows. She nearly swallows the chlorinated water in her enthusiasm. Tina catches Blaine by his wiggling ankles and for a second Blaine fears she’s about to pull him under in a comic blur of flailing arms and umbrella, but she floats and he stays firmly on the concrete.

"You gotta step up your game if you don't want Tina and Cooper to have all the screen time, Blaine," Artie crows. "Everyone loves a reinterpretation of a classic. I can use this." 

Blaine keeps his voice quiet, aimed only for Tina. “Artie’s not the only one. You’ve been thinking about this.”

Tina glows with post-performance delight.  “I wasn’t certain how it would sound. I had an idea.”

Blaine is greeted with a familiar combination of excitement and worry. It’s a creative risk. The audience knows better than to assume that’s the way it’s always been. If they want to make this change, they’ll have to ask for permission.

Tina pushes wet hair out of her eyes. “May Hopkins seems secretly agreeable, right?”

Blaine swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Liar. Let’s start planning what we’ll say.”


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine sets an alarm to call Kurt through Skype the following morning and skips his usual morning jog as a pre-reward for doing the scary thing and helping Tina talk to their director about the song arrangement she created. He resists hitting snooze. With a pillow hugged to his chest and a sideways view of the computer screen because getting vertical means truly accepting being awake, he presses call. 

“Hey, cutie. I see a couple weeks away have made you a radically different man: it seems you’re at least eighty percent pillow. That’s new. Will I recognize you when I come?” Kurt waits eagerly to be congratulated on his adorableness.

Blaine rolls his eyes, and then when Kurt doesn’t immediately respond, asks, “Can you see me roll my eyes? Is the connection good enough for that?”

“You should let me see.” He doesn’t mean Blaine’s eyes.

“Sleepy,” Blaine murmurs in response.

“I thought this was a breakfast call. You’re in bed.” Kurt tilts his plate to show off his bagel to the camera.

“Oh, you’re not sharing? Here I was hoping you’d bring me breakfast in bed.” Blaine hugs his pillow tighter. He wants to watch Kurt, but his eyes want to close.

“Sure. Give me six hours and I’ll be right there.”

“You’re forgetting travel and security time.”

“And the time change. It makes it seem like I’m further away from you than you are from me.”

“You come here then.” Blaine wouldn’t have to move. He could just wait in lazy contentment for Kurt to appear.

“So that’s what, nine real hours?”

“Too far.”

“Too far,” Kurt echoes.

Blaine can’t stand the suddenly somber mood as they both pine to be where the other is. He blows a kiss before begrudgingly shoving the pillow out of his arms and out of frame.

“There you are,” Kurt sings.

Blaine fell asleep in a t-shirt and athletic shorts. It’s not an inherently hot ensemble. Kurt looks at him like it’s thrilling. He immediately lights up and sways coyly.

Blaine’s sleep daze keeps him from caring if he’s imperfect. He needs more sleep, but he'll pay the price for that later. He hides a yawn and lets his body stay on display. "I like waking up with you." 

It’s disconcerting to look at Kurt and not be able to hold onto anything. Blaine sits upright and adjusts the screen to follow him. He really is committed to being awake now. Goodbye, fantasies of breaking the space/time continuum and turning to find Kurt beside him.

“Speaking of waking up to you, Tina, Artie, and your brother each sent me pictures of you at the pool captioned _you're welcome_ last night. I think it was a collaborative effort."

Blaine sighs. He would have demanded Kurt’s attention last night if he knew his friends were doing the same. His mind rushes to recall the pictures he was supposed to pre-approve before they were sent to Kurt. He hasn’t told Kurt about the Great Chest Hair Experiment in which he lets the _South Pacific_ team determine if resisting waxing, plucking, or otherwise forcibly remove hair from his chest makes him look more or less like a marine. "He's such an enabler. Who needs paparazzi when there are older brothers?”

“It was so good of him,” Kurt hums dreamily. “Best present he ever gave me. Sometimes it just hits me how cute you are. You’d think I’d be used to it. I told him to ask next time.”

“Thank you.”

“Or you can send them to me directly.”

Blaine laughs. “I feel scandalized in the most romantic way. Are pictures making you more or less envious?"

"More, but don't stop. Loved the old _South Pacific_ ones, by the way, but stop making me want to have adorable babies with you.”

“Just one. We agreed.” They haven’t actually agreed to anything. It’s all idle daydreams now. One sounds like a good place to start.

“Think about how I am about getting my way and tell me you still want to raise an only child.”

Cooper is difficult too, though. Not that Blaine wants to think of his brother and his husband as having any common traits. But being difficult isn’t unique to only children. Just to people he loves, it seems, as that descriptor applies to Tina, and Rachel, and nearly all their friends. And himself too.

"Can I just say something?" Blaine knows what he's about to say is true because neither one of them panics. "We're doing so well at this."

"Congratulations on being older and wiser together." Kurt raises his mug in cheers. 

"And slightly better at being alone." Mostly functional, at least. They deserve to be pleased with themselves. He misses Kurt, but they’re doing fine.

"And really good at texting.”

"And having friends who will sext for us.”

Kurt’s eyes crinkle. The coffee mug obscures the rest of him. “Have you forgotten what sexting is, honey? Has it been that long?”

Blaine suddenly feels a lot more awake. He knows the sound of a promise. If he looks hopeful long enough, Kurt just might follow through.

No matter what happens the rest of the day, today is going to be good.

***

Tina assumes he’ll talk to May Hopkins with her, and Blaine’s urge to stay on their director’s good side is no match for backing his friend, even if the rock in the pit of his stomach begs to differ. Supporting Tina is a good way to prove he has a sensibly sized ego that can be put aside for the good of the show. Or further entrench in the cast and crew's minds that he and Tina are a matched set, and a troublesome one at that, but Blaine shakes out the second thought. He committed to being by Tina’s side. He believes in her plan.

“You look like we’re in trouble already,” Tina scolds.

“I won’t,” Blaine says without a trace of self-doubt. It’ll take all his skills to act self-assured and like he isn’t ruled by wanting to do whatever May Hopkins wants him to do, but if he does his job right, she’ll never know how terrified he is of her indifference. Of course, with Artie around, someone is always watching, making it that much more clear to the camera that it is an act. Today, that someone is Jane, waiting silently for them.

Tina links her arm with Blaine’s. “Let me talk.”

“Whatever you want.” It feels cowardly. She’s giving him an out. His nerves about crossing May Hopkins are hardly a secret from her.

“What I want is a song, as always. Turns out glee club is more like life than any of us would like. I’m so over swaying in the background.” She marches them determinedly forward. "We have to be a united front. Just agree with everything I say and it'll look better."

Jane catches Blaine’s eye from behind her camera. “Sometimes to make a change, you’ve got to make a little noise.”

Blaine nudges Tina’s attention back to him. Time to force some confidence earlier than planned so they both don't lose their nerve. "I'll let her know I support you, Tina Warrior Princess, one hundred percent because I do. I think it’s a great idea. I’m not just saying that. It’s really good. We both believe in it, and that counts for a lot.”

"I don't think that I've wanted anything this much. And you know that's saying something." Tina sighs. "And I thought my days of begging for solos were over."

"They are. This is a _duet_." 

"That's even less."

"But in front of so many more people." Even Tina’s daydreaming is contagious. His big break can be their big break. May Hopkins officially confirmed that filming will go ahead and that after some editing their performance will air on PBS with DVD sales to follow. A show for thousands will be available to millions. It’s about as mainstream as musical theatre gets. Fame opens doors, even when it’s someone else’s. Most will tune in for the star, but they’ll have to sit through Blaine and Tina’s scenes first.

“Rehearsal time tomorrow will be the same as it was today,” May says without looking up.

Blaine’s desire to please kicks in tenfold.

Tina steps forward. “We want to make a few changes.”

Blaine stops the wince starting to form at her directness. “It’s more an idea to run by you about how to bring a musical from the 50s into the 21st century.”

May barely acknowledges them. “Setting it in the Iraq War would need a different actress than you, Tina, and a title change. It stops being _South_ _Pacific_. We might as well call it _Trying Too Hard_.”

Blaine pushes gently on. “It’s not about that. As you might know, _South Pacific_ was revolutionary for its time, but –”

“Liat doesn’t speak. She gets sung to,” Tina supplies.

“Audiences expect more from representation than these characters just existing now. It’s not enough anymore.”

“Which is why we wanted to turn ‘Younger Than Springtime’ into a duet!” Tina grins at their cleverness. “We arranged a version.”

The director’s lips turn into a line. “ _South Pacific_ is a classic. If I change too much, _I’m_ the hack.”

“Think of what the Rodgers and Hammerstein Organization did to the _Flower Drum Song_ revival with feedback from Asian Americans on how to better represent the characters beyond outdated stereotypes,” Blaine coaxes.

“It closed on Broadway after four months.”

“Perfect – we’re only running one night.” Tina smiles too sweetly.

Blaine nudges Tina and takes his own turn to talk. “The out of town tryout – in Los Angeles, by the way – was praised and then it transitioned to Broadway. Imagine if we did something innovative enough to create Broadway buzz.”

“Broadway!” Tina agrees emphatically.

“And then if we didn’t make the same missteps once there! You could have a show on Broadway again.” Blaine gives his best winning smile.

May does not look amused.

“I’m not even asking for a full song,” Tina adds. “I’m asking for half a song. Half! I have no lines. Blaine has two solos and a duet. Making it one solo and two duets isn’t going to stop him from being the focus.”

Blaine nods along supportively despite his frosty audience. It takes a lot of practice up look this encouraging regardless of challenging circumstances – just the right amount of warmth and smiling with his eyes to ask nicely but keep from pleading – and it should be convincing.

“We can show how it’ll work in rehearsal. You don’t have to agree until you see that it can work,” Tina promises.

May makes “I’ll consider it,” seem like a dismissal. They take it as such.

"What was that?" Tina asks Blaine as they backtrack out of the rehearsal space.

"Asking nicely?" 

"Oh, lord." Tina shakes her head. 

“Well, we should have rehearsed that,” Blaine admits. They spent all their time on the arrangement they didn’t get to show off.

Tina isn’t as easily deterred. "Our success can be the theme of Artie’s documentary: from almost no lines to starring in something worthwhile on Broadway. The plot is just getting started.”

She ushers them along, with Jane on their heels, to inform Artie of his theme.

***

" _Why do you have this feeling, you and she? I do not believe it is born in you, I do not!_ "

Blaine recites his lines dutifully. " _It's not born in you_."

"You are talking to me! Point!" Cooper’s terrible French accents stays. "Zis es remedial stuff! Nothing pulls focus more zhan pointing. You zhink you are directing attention toward wherever you are pointing, but with ze right emotional depth...."

"I'll let the director make that decision."

"Do you think I created a credit ratings empire by letting the director decide?” Cooper asks in his normal voice. “Point!" 

" _It's not born in you_ ," Blaine repeats. 

"You're awfully mellow about the racism, Lieutenant. How will they learn if you don't point?"

“Point at what?”

“Now, now, I can’t make all your artistic decisions for you. The emotional impact will be greater if it’s coming from you.” Cooper taps over his heart.

Blaine humors his brother and raises his arm.

“No, don’t point at me,” Cooper scolds.

“You don’t think I should point at you when I say ‘you’?”

“It’s not the kind of ‘you’ that involves me.”

Tina watches in bemusement. “Do a sweep of the audience! I’ll play the audience since I have nothing better to do.”

Blaine tries to communicate with his eyebrows how much Tina should not encourage Cooper. Cooper insisted they practice Blaine’s lines in the West Lima High School production the same way. Cooper sped between playing Blaine’s father and his sister, using the same terrible accent as now or dropping to his knees to be at Blaine’s height. Cooper cared little for Blaine’s lines as long as he could get them close enough to continue Cooper’s game, but he'd stop long enough to scold "don't screw this up for me" if Blaine fumbled too badly.

Blaine is kind of fond of the memory. Nostalgia is forgiving like that. And right now, Blaine is just thrilled that his brother wants to spend time with him.

“We’ll rehearse your lines next,” Cooper promises Tina.

“All I have to do is think about my lack of solos, and, ta-da, sad face.” Tina pulls a spectacular pout. “No rehearsals needed. There's got to be something else I can do if I'm not allowed to talk and our director won’t go along with my fabulous plan. Like an interpretive dance? It's hokey but I don't think tap says _mourning the loss of my week-long lover_ like interpretive dance does.” 

"Yell with your eyes," Cooper advises. “Or make unscripted noises. Great way to pull focus. Just start moaning.”

“I can have a complete meltdown on stage! I’m good at those.”

“You said it, not me,” Blaine teases. Tina swats playfully at him.

“Can you steal someone else’s part?” Cooper asks.

Blaine chokes.

“Not unless I want to be a child or a crone. Of course, even the kids have more to do than me.”

“ _Dites-moi /_ _pourquoi,_ ” Blaine begins, bright and teasing. “ _la vie est belle_.” The children’s song he knows from his first time in _South Pacific_ comes back to him like muscle memory.

“ _Dites-moi / pourquoi / la vie est_ gay.” Tina pokes his side and they both laugh. They fall into an easy rhythm with the rest of the song. Tina starts a clapping game with the beat of song and they begin again.

Blaine would have loved someone who would play like this when he was younger. A game like this needs someone equally willing to play. ~~~~

“You obsessed over that silly song,” Cooper reminds him.

“You told me I wasn’t allowed to embarrass you with mediocrity and then you kicked me out so you could practice your far more vocally challenging songs in peace,” Blaine counters before continuing his song.

“ _Est-ce que / parce que / vous m'aimez?_ ”

“We would’ve given those kids a run for their money!” Tina declares when they make it through the song again. "Did I tell you I played Ngana once upon a time?"

"Shut up!" Blaine laughs. "How cute would we have been? Wait, the girl I forgot…”

“It was crappy community theatre, not Cooper’s high school. I was seven and shy everywhere but on stage."

"Aww," Blaine coos. He can't imagine Tina as shy, although Kurt swears she used to be. By the time Blaine and Tina connected, she unapologetically knew who she was, which drew Blaine to her. He bets they would have had fun even back then. In another lifetime, the girl he forgot could’ve been Tina. He wonders what it would be like with Tina as his sister instead of Cooper as his brother. Blaine understands her better, but he’s really trying with Cooper.

"I'll ask my mom to send a picture," Tina promises. "Oh, hey, if you played Jerome and I played Ngana, you know that means you're kind of my brother."

"Only if you marry Cooper."

"You're even a brat like one." Tina pulls a curl. 

"That you love," Blaine adds smugly. 

Cooper gravely shakes his head. "Do not ruin Tina for me by saying she looks anything like you, Squirt."

Blaine rolls his eyes at Cooper. To Tina, he says, “We’ll figure something out for Liat. Or May will give us another chance.” He can’t help the encouragement from slipping past his filter. He wants so hard for their director to like him, but he also wants Tina to be happy.

"Poor, sweet, cherubic Blaine. I know the rules that bind us mere mortals confuse you. Not all of us have what we want handed to us." 

Blaine huffs. He's not like Cooper. He doesn't expect doors to open just because he's handsome. He has logic, and thoughtful arguments, _and_ a winning smile on his side. 

"She'll recognize a good idea eventually," he promises. He hopes he’s right. 


	7. Chapter 7

Tina’s tenacity impresses and unnerves Blaine. The time Tina and Blaine spend stuck in traffic becomes Tina’s scheming time to make her role into what she wants it to be. It often turns into ranting time.

"I can't compete with, you know, the goddess of the billboard charts, but Liat and Lieutenant Cable are at least half of what makes _South Pacific_ a great story. Why not take a risk when everyone's guaranteed to love Nellie? It's not like anyone's going to say ‘no, I don't want to buy that blu-ray, the Asian chick talks too much,’ even the purists. I mean, she took a risk casting you.”

"Thanks, Tina." 

"Liat has lines in the book. It's not like we'd make things up from scratch. There can be more to Liat than a series of ‘no’s. And speaking of series of ‘no’s, I think May is avoiding me, because every time I have a chance with her, I don’t get to finish a thought before something else becomes so much more pressing.” Tina tries to corner their director each rehearsal. Finding a moment to do it without causing a scene proves difficult. They arrive earlier each day in hopes of getting her alone. Today has been another failure, hence the uptick in Tina’s frustration.

"Maybe one day we can do our own version of _South Pacific_ , where we make it what we want," Blaine offers. If he’s cheerful about the possibilities, maybe she will be too. Blaine can feel Tina’s eyes on him even as his are on the road. “You like directing. I think you went to school for it, even.”

“Who _doesn’t_ love being in charge? Certainly not you,” Tina teases.

“I’d follow your direction. Wherever you’d lead me.”

Tina pats affectionately at his knee, and they both take a moment to daydream. The buzz of his cell phone interrupts Blaine’s. He can’t look while driving, and he isn’t about to hand that much privacy over to Tina either, but he wants to know. Blaine and Tina split driving evenly, and the unproductive hours they spend in traffic make Blaine restless. All the waiting for something to happen, heading somewhere but taking so long to get there.

“I’ll keep your willingness to follow orders in mind for the _decades from now_ when I can actually direct something and have it matter to more than our immediate family members. Think about how many people are watching _this_ version. We’re talking about _thousands_ to _millions_ of people. This is the version to change.”

“It would be amazing,” Blaine agrees with sympathetic longing. Her heart is set already, and his can be easily swayed. “But it’s also not entirely in our control? It’ll still be a great opportunity if she doesn’t agree.”

"Would you have agreed if they offered you Henri?" 

"No, but..." The protest that Henri only has a few lines and no songs dies on his fumbling tongue. Nothing to show off his range, nothing to make putting his life on hold worth it. Blaine had every intention of turning down whatever they offered him until they offered Cable. He has the most enviable male role and it's his for as long as he can convince the _South Pacific_ team he deserves it. But his amazing opportunity isn’t as amazing for her.

“That’s what I thought.”

"Liat seems bigger than that. People think Liat is a big part even if it isn't. You'll still be seen," Blaine says. 

At the sound of vibrations again, Tina feels around the car for her phone.

“It’s mine,” Blaine tells her.

“Is your butt buzzing? Who sticks their phone in their back pocket?” Tina reaches for it.

“Leave my butt alone when I’m driving, Queen T,” Blaine warns. It would be just like her to hack his lock screen while he’s occupied. His phone is way too personal to let that happen.

“Want me to text Kurt for you?”

“You can say I’m driving. From _your_ phone, please.”

“Spoilsport. My Blaine impression would be the performance of a lifetime.” She flashes a smile and produces her own phone.

Blaine spares a glance at his phone and the messages he missed when they idle in traffic.

**Kurt:** _Do I actually get to talk to you tonight? (9:22 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Going to bed early ;) (9:36 PM)_

Blaine snorts at Kurt’s concept of early – it’s past midnight on the east coast now – but Kurt’s schedule has shifted later and Blaine’s has shifted earlier to accommodate each other. Blaine burns the metaphorical candle at both ends, rising early to be attuned to the east coast and have the west to himself and his self-improvement crusade, and staying out late for rehearsals or catching up with friends.

**Kurt:** _I suggest you do the same in case that wasn’t obvious (9:51 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Ugh why are you busy right now (9:54 PM)_

Blaine checks the car clock so frequently he knows what it’ll be before he looks. Knowing doesn’t stop him. Every three minutes he reaches the end of his patience and has to look again.

Privacy means waiting for a reasonable time to retire to Cooper’s guest room, but privacy isn’t worth much if Kurt isn’t awake to be alone with. Blaine bids Tina and Cooper goodbye shortly after he walks through the door, with Cooper teasing Blaine for being old and married when he wants to go to bed. 

"You're old; I'm married," Blaine teases back.

Cooper sulks, and by the time Blaine flatters Cooper back into a good enough mood to say goodnight, Kurt isn’t responding to Blaine’s text messages.

**Blaine:** _I’m ready! (10:24 PM)_

No response. Three hours doesn't seem like much, but it's always too early or too late for someone. Blaine holds out a tiny sliver of hope that Kurt is just busy, not asleep, and he’ll come back from a late night craft project ready for attention.

Blaine preens in front of the mirror while he waits. Staring at his reflection and coaxing his face into more attractive looks takes him right back to high school _._ He had to be ready, because other openly gay guys relatively his age were few and far between and he never knew when an opportunity might arise. He still didn’t when his future husband was sitting right in front of him practicing even more ridiculous faces. Then Blaine realized how much he wanted Kurt and time practicing attractiveness in front of the mirror increased tenfold.

**Blaine:** _Are you still up? (10:35 PM)_

Blaine replaces the mirror with the camera on his phone. He gives it a series of come hither looks to send to Kurt once he knows he has Kurt’s attention. If Kurt doesn’t find them hot, he’ll at least have a laugh. The curls are kind of everywhere, but Kurt can pretend they’re sex-mused. Blaine ruffles them more and takes another picture.

Still no response. Blaine pouts at his phone, and then takes a picture of that too.

He debates for a moment how far he wants to take his show for the phone camera. The longer he waits, the lower the likelihood that Kurt is still awake. But given how out of sync their schedules are, maybe time-delayed sexting is the answer. He might as well be prepared.

Blaine licks and sucks on two fingers, his eyes on the camera. He has to draw everything out to get a good shot. Blaine’s experience with sexting doesn’t involve a lot of patience and willingness to take multiple shots to choose the best, but he’s in no hurry now.

He huffs a laughs as he reviews the pictures he’s taken so far. They range from demure to brazen. Some turn out sexy. Some silly. He deletes all but the best.  He’s going to tease Kurt for hours, but too many pictures and he’s walking the line between titillating and tedious.

He checks his messages again and there’s still nothing new, so he fills up his photos more.

Blaine drifts for a moment when he lays himself down on the bed for a seductive change of scenery, content to close his eyes and just be still. Along with everything for _South Pacific_ , he has an audition in the morning, and another one the day after that. A few more are potential but unscheduled. He'll fit in whatever time allows. Exhaustion is nothing in the face of opportunity, he reminds himself when drifting threatens to become sleep.

Exhaustion is also nothing in the face of missing Kurt.

His stretched limbs fall onto the space in the bed normally reserved for his husband. As soon as Kurt wakes up, Blaine will remind him all he missed tonight. Blaine angles his camera to capture his sprawled form. His other hand skims down his still-clothed body. Blaine never thought too hard about how much he and Kurt touch until he didn’t have the option.He misses being touched.He’s always aware of where Kurt is moving around the apartment they share, and now he’s aware of the distance. He misses moving each other. He can’t resist sending one more text.

**Blaine:** _I’m having all the fun without you if you don’t wake up (10:43 PM)_

Blaine loses patience with the layers. He kicks off his capris first. He pauses in increments to capture the tangle of denim from his hips to his thighs, touching himself through brightly colored cotton and groaning in relief. His vivid imagination has no trouble supplying Kurt as fantasy fodder. He can imagine Kurt’s giddy delight. The way his jaw drops. The way he’ll drape himself on their bed to look at the photos Blaine takes like he’s settling down to watch one of his shows, nose too close to the screen, his legs kicked up and ankles crossed. How he’ll turn when the pressure from the mattress isn’t enough relief.

They'll make up for lost time. Tomorrow, maybe, if Kurt is already asleep tonight. Time zones and miles won’t matter.

The only problem with sexting is the other noticeable difference in his appearance besides his curls: nothing distracts from sexytimes like, “hey, did you give up waxing?” He still isn’t convinced it’s not a major detractor. He stalls for a moment while he debates where to focus next. He could just focus the camera on his ass – it’s not like Kurt would _complain_ – but he can be a little more creative than that. He rucks up his polo and covers the developing trail of hair with his hand, and it looks more like he’s trying to make Kurt jealous than like he’s try to hide, so he counts it as a win. He arches his shoulders back and his hips forward and angles the camera so it could plausibly come from Kurt’s perspective instead of his own. That should work. He wiggles his briefs lower on his hips and tries again.

He takes enough pictures that Kurt could have a dirty flipbook.

The first time Kurt asked for a dick pic all those years ago, Kurt almost choked on Blaine’s tongue in Blaine’s rush to prove his enthusiasm. The sudden heat made Blaine feel faint. He marveled at how far they’d come from stuttered requests to please keep holding hands. Feeling desired was – is – like a drug. It won out over juvenile nerves.

To coax Kurt into talking more, Blaine had asked, “How do you want it?”

“Um,” Kurt had replied. Not completely over stuttering after all.

Blaine touches himself at the memory. At the desire plain on Kurt’s features. At the flex in Kurt’s fingers even as he held himself back.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, just tell me how you want it. Whatever you want.” Blaine’s voice at the time was the huskiest it had ever been. He meant every sweeping promise about what he would give Kurt. When Kurt gulped, Blaine added, “Do you want to take it right now?”

Blaine kicks the briefs aside so he’s completely bare. It’s a relief after how hot he works himself up. The memory encourages him to tease. He washes the guest room sheets himself, so he doesn’t feel the least bit bad about using the thin fabric like a prop and rolling around in it for effect. Blaine twists to get the angles right. He nearly gets caught in his own tangle, but that’s okay: Kurt will only see the end result.

Under Kurt’s direction, Blaine leaned against Kurt’s adolescent bedroom door, free from the visual noise of the rest of the room, bare. Kurt’s lips parted, hungry eyes took Blaine in. Kurt pulled at his collar like he overheated too. It was so, incredibly hot for Blaine to see Kurt worked up over him.The camera made Blaine nervous back then, knowing he was performing not only for Kurt in the moment, but for that one moment in time to capture everything Kurt might want in the future. Who did Kurt want him to be the most, out of all the variations there were to Blaine?

Maybe he sensed Blaine’s nerves, but praise about how good and handsome Blaine was poured from Kurt’s lips like caresses even as Kurt stepped back out of his reach. Blaine soaked up the praise like a sponge, unfurling away by the steady tide of Kurt’s adoration and doubts washed away from him. The only stiffness left was in his cock. Feeling exposed, but not in a bad way. Not bad at all.

He touched himself then like he touches himself now. The anticipation works for Blaine, but it’s getting to be a bit much. He’s ready for the relief he’ll feel as soon as Kurt is close enough to touch again.

Blaine blew a kiss back then, all those years ago. Kurt requested another, slower so it wouldn’t blur, giggling, “Now it’s a dick pic with feelings.”

Kurt has that picture still. It survived the long distance and quarrels and break ups. With come still on his fingers, Blaine blows a kiss for the camera again.

***

**Kurt:** _Are you awake yet? (5:48 AM)._

Blaine should be. He grumbles aloud with his nose burrowed into his pillow. If he keeps snoozing, his run won’t be long enough to be worth it, and he can’t get in the habit of canceling. Close ups broadcast across America wait for no one.

He snaps an exaggerated selfie peeking out from under a pillow and a mop of unruly hair for Kurt and presses send.

**Blaine:** _I woke up like this (5:52 AM)._

**Kurt:** _Flawless <3 (5:52 AM)._

Blaine hauls himself out of bed, changes quickly, and laces up his running shoes. Oversleeping means cutting out either the run or the stationary workout he has planned. Weights will build bulk faster, but even with the pool to set the scene, he'd rather move. He feels so much more accomplished when the cookie cutter houses and palm trees blur past.

Blaine stifles a yawn. Exercise followed by a refreshing cool shower should wake him up enough to make up for the exhaustion he feels now. Maybe a cool shower followed by iced coffee. He depends on coffee more since the start of his LA adventure – coffee used to be an accessory that conveyed adulthood instead of an actual necessity – and he’s rather not depend on anything, but it’s a small sacrifice to keep him moving at the pace he wants to move.

While getting ready and out the front door, Blaine misses a series of texts from Kurt that strongly hint he would like attention. Blaine takes a chance and hits dial. His music switches out to the sound of Kurt’s voice.

“There you are!”

“Not an emergency, I just don’t have hands free,” Blaine explains quickly.

“And your hands are…?” Kurt sounds hopeful.

“Typing and jogging isn’t my forte if I don’t want to add falling on my ass to that list of activities.”

“Ah. That’s the heavy breathing.”

The corner of Blaine’s lip twitches. “You should’ve called last night.”

“Go on.”

“You’ll see later, and that’s all I’m saying now.” He’s going to enjoy teasing Kurt so much.

Kurt sucks in a breath. “When you say I’ll see….”

“Now who’s breathing hard?”

“Both of us if we do it right! What are you wearing?”

“Running clothes, Kurt,” Blaine laughs. “I don’t know if you heard through all the panting, but I’m running.”

“I’m trying to forget,” Kurt responds lightly. His voice sounds far away. “Which shorts? How short are they?”

“The aqua ones.”

Kurt hums. Blaine turns the volume on his headphones up. He loves the way Kurt gets smug and preening when he thinks Blaine is particularly cute.

“And I’m wearing my running shoes. And socks, I guess, but those don’t seem like an item to list. They’re like underwear for feet.”

“You should definitely tell me more about – well, I care more about one of those than the other. Also, you forgot to mention your shirt.”

“I didn’t forget.” Blaine wishes he could see Kurt’s jaw go slack.

“What are my chances that Tina or Cooper will take pictures or Artie’s film crew will go running after you?”

“They’re asleep, and running doesn’t make a good documentary.”

“I’d watch it,” Kurt volunteers.

“Of course you would.” Blaine laughs and lets the conversation lull while he admires Kurt’s dedication to being Blaine’s best fan. Blaine’s eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and then he thinks better of it and watches the sidewalk blur.

“Grocery shopping without you is the worst,” Kurt announces. “No one will judge me if I fill my basket with baked goods, except the cashiers and their hearts aren’t in it.”

Blaine strains to pick up Kurt’s tone. Something always gets lost with the distance. Blaine teases to see how it lands. “You called me up for my long distance judgment.”

“I’m holding a packet of cheese danishes. Remind me how disgusting cheese danishes are.”

“I’d eat that with you.” Blaine would agree to any junk food with Kurt right now. Maybe if he runs hard enough, all food that doesn’t belong on the cover of _Cooking Light_ will lose its appeal. At least running hard gives his muscles something to do besides ache for Kurt.

The line crackles in Blaine’s ear, competing against the slapping of pavement under his feet. All the technological advances in the world, and expecting a clear phone connection between the two biggest cities in the US is too much to expect. He can hear the distance between them.

“Are you there?” Blaine asks when all he hears is silence. He can’t tell if it’s a companionable silence or the connection just sucks. Kurt shouldn't sound so far away. 

“Still here.”

“Maybe you should breathe heavily too.”

Instead of flirting back, Kurt responds quietly. “I get it now.”

Blaine waits for his husband to stop pausing for dramatic effect and explain.

“You’re somewhere new doing something exciting. I’m just here going about life as usual, but without you. It’s hard like this. I’m not built into your routine, but you’re still built into mine, and everything reminds me of you. This silly two-pack of cheese danishes _that I don’t even like_ remind me of you.”

“What can I do for you?” Blaine asks immediately, echoing Kurt question the night before Blaine left. There's not much he won't do, but he can't make LA closer to New York and he can't say no to this opportunity. He briefly contemplates the cost of an unplanned cross-country flight and if either of them has time. Practicality vetoes it for both reasons. “Just tell me what to do.”

“I don’t think I need you to solve anything. We’re good. We’ll keep being good even though I miss you,” Kurt promises. “I’m having a moment, and when I get home I’m having two cheese danishes to make up for you being gone.”

Even with his own breath thundering in his ears, Blaine can tell Kurt means it.

“We’ll make up for it when we’re back together. I started a countdown on the calendar. You’ll be here soon.” It’s nothing Kurt doesn’t already know, but it’s what he has to offer. “You are more than welcome to come on my morning jogs with me if all the panting doesn’t get annoying.”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees softly. “Take some pictures and sign me up.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding a warning here for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it mention of depression. It's very minor, but I don't want to upset anyone by not giving proper warning.

Blaine chats amiably with the costumer, Angie, when he arrives for his fitting, but he falls silent when it’s time to try on the trappings of Lieutenant Cable. It’s easier for him to see Joe Cable if he doesn’t let being Blaine Anderson get in the way. 1940s military garb isn’t a style Blaine would ever choose for himself, but Blaine’s opinion doesn’t matter beyond agreeing that he can move as needed. Still, his eyes stray back to his reflection. It’s weird to see himself and someone else at the same time. He stands a little straighter and lets his smile drop.

“I guess I gave you more room than needed,” Angie apologizes. She guides him around as if his body is the same as a mannequin. “I have your measurements, but I didn’t quite trust how tiny they were. Serves me right, huh? But it’s easier for me to take it in than let it out, so cross your fingers, try not to wiggle, and I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

“We’ll get there,” Blaine says encouragingly for both their sakes, despite how ridiculous he looks as full inches of fabric gather to be cut away. Blaine slowly becomes more pincushion than marine. His skin prickles where the pins rest.

“Does that feel more like it fits yet?” Angie asks as she sticks him with more pins.

“Um.” Blaine weighs being agreeable against pushing for what he wants. Blaine is probably too used to tailoring from his husband, who knows his body as well as a person who doesn’t inhabit it can, and who makes custom designs fit like a dream, but he isn’t convinced the uniform is as flattering as it could be.“It’s still a bit like wearing someone else’s clothes.”

“It should be, unless you dress up as a marine on weekends.” Angie winks at him. “No uniform is meant to fit as snuggly as what you came in here with.”

“That’s true,” Blaine concedes. “I don’t think I’ve worn something this boxy since prep school.” It’s like stepping years back in time, but into a completely different kind of uniform.

“Cute,” Angie says absently as she sticks more pins in him. She’s around his mother’s age and responds with the same mild, supportive tone.

It’s hard to feel like any story’s hero an inside-out uniform two sizes too large. The dashing part must come later, when it actually fits. He’ll just have to squint and imagine how it will be. Angie is a professional, and the costume should fit right when it’s time.

When squinting doesn’t convince him, Blaine closes his eyes and lets his mind drift to the last uniform he wore. He didn’t complain about the Dalton uniform once, boxy though it was. As soon as he put on that blue blazer with red piping, he was a part of something bigger. It was like armor. Like camouflage. He can approach this uniform in the same way, although of course he would love to look perfect when he makes his big theatrical debut.

The dressing room door creaks and Mason slips in, walking backwards with his camera in hand to capture Cooper’s grand entrance. Madison follows, presumably to capture the reaction shot.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,” Blaine says. Cooper comes to the _South Pacific_ rehearsal space so often that no one thinks to stop him. He just acts like he belongs.

“No one says no to this.” Cooper gestures to his charming tilted smile. He leans in like he’s sharing a secret.

Angie proves Cooper right by letting him stay. She leafs through the list on her clipboard. “Forgive me for forgetting, but who are you playing?”

“Oh, I’m not in the show. I’m moral support.”

“I don’t need encouragement for a costume fitting, Coop,” Blaine corrects, trying to be kind but clear. He doesn’t need anyone else to do his job.

“That’s what you think now.” Cooper keeps on grinning. It almost always works for him. “You wanted my advice on how to do this Lieutenant Cable thing, right? Don’t let all my years of experience go to waste.”

Blaine finds himself hesitating. He does want to spend time with his brother. They really haven’t talked the whole time Blaine has been in LA. Not in any meaningful way. Not in the way Blaine wants, where they become closer instead of just sharing space. Letting Cooper stay, even with an audience, might be as close as he can get right now.

“You know you want to let me stay. You used to always want my opinion,” Cooper wheedles when Blaine hesitates too long.

“I guess I don’t mind if Angie doesn’t.” To Angie, Blaine says, “I assume you’ve seen my brother around?” Who in the show hasn’t at this point?

“Half-brother,” Cooper corrects. He only used to call Blaine that when Blaine annoyed him. “Cooper Anderson, at your good service.”

Angie does a double take. “Oh. Huh. I see it now.”

Blaine is tempted to ask which she can see – that they’re brothers, or only half?

Angie tilts Blaine’s attention back to his – _Lieutenant Cable_ _’s_ – reflection and tugs on the seams at either side of his torso. "I can take it in a little more here to make it fit more sharply without completely compromising the era. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” Blaine smiles encouragingly.

“Of course, if I listen to your friend Tina, we should skip historical accuracy altogether and make it about showing off all of your cute little figure. Is there something there?"

"Yeah, a friendship without good boundaries. My husband will be here for the show." He has yet to figure out how to say _my husband_ without sounding smug.

"Ooh, let me see your ring!"

There's not much about the ring to interest anyone besides Blaine, who can feel the weight of the plain band, but he holds his hand out and she coos anyway. 

"You're so young!"

Cooper huffs in the corner.  “So, so young. But they’ll make it look less like you’re playing dress up when it’s time.”

Blaine widens his stance and tries to take up more space. It doesn’t change how he looks in the uniform.

“We’re still off, aren’t we? There’s historically accurate and then there’s letting khaki swallow you whole.” Angie sighs at the expanse of fabric already pinned away. “Well, better to alter now than right before the show. Maybe we’ll take it in a little more still. Not enough that you look like the sixth Village Person, but a little more sex appeal won’t hurt.”

“Here, let me show you how it’s done.” Cooper reaches for the collar of Blaine’s shirt.

“That doesn’t make sense, Cooper. I can’t emulate you into changing size.”

“Don’t be weird – we used to share clothes all the time.”

“You mean I used to wear your-hand-me downs 10 years after you were done with them,” Blaine corrects.

Cooper’s tone harshens in response. “You were tiny, so more like _12_ before you got there.”

Angie gives them a weird look. Blaine shrugs and smiles too brightly. How many times has he’s heard that he’s too sensitive? Being jerks is kind of how brothers are, according to everyone who has ever given an opinion on the matter. So what if he doesn’t like Cooper’s tone. So what if Cooper’s teasing always seems to have too much truth underneath it to be just for play. Blaine still wants them to be closer, doesn’t he?

“Let’s get you into your malaria costume next.” Angie offers a distressed undershirt meant to look permanently soaked through with sweat and an equally distressed uniform pant.

Blaine slips behind the privacy curtain and passes the original uniform back out to Angie before shrugging into the new one. The malaria costume is just as off-putting as it sounds. Blaine plucks at the crusty fake-sweat tee that looks like it wants to escape his skin as badly as he wants it off him. The pants are even baggier than the first.

“Ready?” Angie asks from the other side.

“Just a moment.” He waits to feel less gross.The shirt hangs unflatteringly, making his chest look sunken in. The wrinkles on his khakis are large enough to be seen by the back row. Blaine has mostly ignored the chest hair he isn’t waxing away, but it adds to the unkempt look now. He doesn’t fit his mental picture of himself at all. Blaine’s nose threatens to permanently wrinkle. He could accept a transition from handsome to less-so if he actually felt good in the first outfit, but a switch from bad to worse is an unexpected blow to his ego.

“It’s supposed to look unattractive. You’re supposed to look near death,” Angie soothes to coax him out from behind the privacy curtain and Blaine once again reminds himself that he’s not supposed to be himself. No need to be an actor with an ego; just do the part.

“That explains the hair.” Cooper calls from the other side of the curtain. “Haven’t seen the static shock like this since the too-depressed-to-gel days.”

Blaine smoothes his hands over his looser, beachy curls meant to show how _not_ uptight he is. They are looser still from changing in and out of uniform. He’s actually been enjoying the curls, but they’re not working with him today. He’s changed too often for them to stay in place.

“Do you have gel?” Blaine asks Angie.

“Just the costumes, not hair and makeup, but we’ll get you all spruced up and period appropriate for the show. I promise I won’t even look at your hair.”

Angie is officially humoring him. Blaine sighs. He needs to stop touching it or he’ll only make it worse.

Meanwhile, Cooper won’t stop when he gets an idea into his head. Blaine emerges from behind the privacy curtain to find Cooper standing behind Angie in the crisp uniform Blaine wore mere moments ago. Cooper turns into a pose, grinning encouragingly for applause. The pins that held the costume to Blaine’s size litter the floor. Blaine stoops to pick the pins up and spare them all the impending accident.

“Looks nice,” Angie says as she turns and sees what Blaine is staring at behind her. Blaine can’t tell if she’s humoring him until she blushes and looks away from Cooper while adding, “It’s like Lieutenant Cable got a Disney prince makeover.”

Cooper drapes an arm over Blaine’s shoulders and leans heavily. He moves Blaine to the side to center himself in the mirror and beams at their reflections.

“We look great.” Cooper muses Blaine’s hair.

Blaine flattens his hair under his palms and squints again. He doesn’t see it. Not that he can see much, shoved off to the side, but he’s pretty sure he looks like he has malaria. He can’t help comparing the two of them and feeling like he comes up short – literally. The uniform fits Cooper like it was made for him. Every flash of Cooper’s perfect teeth and toss of his perfect hair screams heartthrob.

Blaine isn’t the only one comparing them. Angie looks between the two of them and bites her lip. "How tall are you, Blaine?" 

"Five-eight."

"Five-eight when you lie." Cooper’s smile doesn’t reach his bright blue eyes.

"I think I know myself."

“My bad, my bad. That was harsh. Five-eight on the internet. Or when everyone around you is lying too. Or when auditioning for _Wicked_ and you don’t want to be cast as a munchkin.”

Angie stifles a laugh behind her hand. "I didn't think of this. It'll look so silly to have Nellie taller than Lieutenant Cable, but even if I put her in flats...ugh, I don't want to put her in flats."

"I don't think it'll be that noticeable." Blaine also doesn't think it matters – plenty of women are taller than plenty of men and there’s no good reason to pretend otherwise – but people are rarely receptive to hearing their worries don't matter. His height is not even that outside of the norm. Neither is Nellie’s. Either being around Cooper or being in Hollywood has completely blown it out of proportion.

“I’ll talk to May about how to handle it,” Angie says.

Blaine can’t exactly sprinkle miracle grow on himself and hope for the best, but he keeps his polite smile on. He tries not to blame Cooper for Angie’s doubts that didn't manifest until Cooper showed up looking like the image of Lieutenant Cable already formed in her mind. Blaine does what he can to regain control of the fitting.

“You know, Cooper, it might be more useful for you to help with Tina’s fitting. And romantic, don’t you think? Why don’t you go get her?”

Angie looks at Blaine like he’s betrayed her.

“Great idea. This officer and gentleman has some classic cinema to reenact. Camera crew, follow!”

Madison and Mason have a silent but emphatic conversation that ends in Mason following Cooper out the door. Angie watches her costume leave.

“Sorry about him. I can come back later and we can do this again. And I’ll bring apology cookies.” Blaine tips the pins he collected from the floor into Angie’s hand.

Angie shakes her head, but not without fondness. She seems less bothered by Cooper than Blaine is. “Just don’t run off with this costume too. You can go back to being you.”

Blaine retreats. He wants this malaria costume off of him as soon as possible.

Madison follows Blaine behind the privacy screen. “So, your brother’s a little crazy.”

Blaine gives her and her camera a _what gives?_ look, gesturing between them as he shrugs back into his own clothes.

“I’m not into it, it’s cool. Do you get what’s going on with your brother?”

“Can you read _his_ mind for me? You and Mason don’t really have boundaries, but that was weird, right?”

“Duh. If you want my opinion – and you do where brothers behaving weirdly are involved – he’s jealous like crazy. You two can’t help being compared to each other and he thinks he’s losing.”

Blaine slides a hand over his curls in disarray. Between the two of them, Cooper isn’t the one who comes up short. “I’m pretty sure that’s the _opposite_ of what just happened. Cooper isn’t capable of feeling like he’s losing. He had three lines in a trashy Nicholas Sparks movie and he wanted to nominate himself for best supporting actor. He’s showing off, because that’s what he _always does_.”

The wide-eyed look of exasperation Blaine has seen Madison train on her brother so often now aims at him. "You’re the guy he’s always going to be compared to. Every awesome thing you do is an awesome thing he misses out on. Losing to someone else isn’t the same. Like this one time at cheer camp, they got our names wrong in the program and Mason got all the credit for my routine. I was furious with him and it wasn't even his fault. But if anyone is going to steal my thunder, it better be him because I can take credit for that too in a way. You know?"

“What did Mason do?”

“Ride it out. Sooner or later, I realized it’s not his fault a thing I wanted got handed to him. Cooper will figure out he’s being a jerk eventually. I never wanted to be the worse one out of us, but it wouldn't want Mason to either. I bet Cooper’s the same. So cheer up, okay?" She waits for him to say okay back.

Once he is dressed as himself again, Blaine waits in the hallway for Cooper. He may not be sure where to go from here, but he’d rather fix things than let them pass.

Cooper returns carrying Tina bridal style while she waves like a beauty queen. For a moment she’s the star. Mason walks backwards down the hallway to capture it. Cooper deposits her mostly gracefully on her feet outside the dressing room door and takes a bow.

“I’ve always wanted to do that!” Tina kisses Cooper’s cheek and pats Blaine’s on the way by. With a pleading look from Blaine and more silent conversation from Madison, the camera-carrying twins disappear inside behind her.

Blaine stops Cooper before he can follow them into Tina’s fitting. “Hey, Coop, what do you say we ditch the cameras for a while and go on our own adventure?”

“Like what?”

“Um.” What shared interests do they have aside from the spotlight? Blaine’s idea of fun is estate sales and TV personality makeovers, which don’t exactly fit the adventure description he gave. He’s not actually after an activity; He wants a feeling. He wants to feel connected to Cooper again. Thanks to Madison, Blaine has an opportunity to connect when neither of them is putting on a show for their camera-wielding audience. Cooper won’t have anyone to impress if they’re alone, and maybe if he isn’t trying to impress anyone, he won’t constantly feel the need to put Blaine down. “It doesn’t matter to me. You can pick.”

Blaine recovers from his falter with a winning smile. He forgets Cooper knows exactly how the winning smile works and can see right through it.

“Mmm-hmm. What do you want?” Cooper asks. It sounds like a no. Blaine has a moment of déjà vu for all the times he knocked on Cooper’s door asking to play only to be told to go away. When Blaine sulkingly did as he was told, their mom promised Cooper would want to play more once Blaine got a little older. The older they get, the less the age difference should matter. He should be sufficiently interesting as an adult.

“I just want to spend time with you.” He mostly succeeds at sounding casual, but he’s cursed with overeagerness as a default.  

“Marriage hasn’t made you less needy,” Cooper laughs, and Blaine suddenly feels like his simple request was too much. Like he’s whining for attention. Cooper has been following him around at rehearsals for a few solid weeks, but _Blaine’s_ the needy one.

“Never mind, I have lines to run.” He sounds more passive-aggressive than he wants.

Cooper makes a face.

If Cooper is jealous for once, Blaine is going to try his best to relish it. He takes his wounded pride and stalks off to rehearse.

Of course, there’s no one around to rehearse with, which makes his dramatic exit less effective. He has his lines and his songs and his blocking down. Thanks to all his extra preparation outside of regular rehearsal, he’s disarmingly close to ready. He heads to the restroom to freshen up instead. He’s unsettled in his own skin after that ugly malaria ensemble. Despite how he knows water only makes it curl more, Blaine wets his hair with water from the sink and splashes water onto his face as well.

For the second time in less than 20 minutes, Blaine lifts his head, stares in the mirror, and doesn’t recognize the man staring back. He likes to think he looks better than this. Someone in the company has to have emergency hair care supplies to tame the disarray changing and Cooper wreaked on his curls. He isn’t sure what to do about eyes that betray his momentary insecurity no matter how he forces a smile.

It's times like these that make him miss Kurt the most. As if he didn’t miss Kurt desperately enough already. Kurt knows him as well as Blaine lets him, and he still insists upon Blaine’s cuteness. For proof he doesn’t always look like he’s been through a disaster, he pulls up the risqué pictures he took on his phone while missing Kurt the night before. He felt so good about himself less than 24 hours ago. Like he had something worth showing off. It’s not an entirely truthful depiction with the forgiving lighting and the carefully calculated angles, but it’s not a lie either.

When he wants something and he isn’t sure what, sex is a safe bet. Blaine sends a picture to Kurt and waits for a reply.

**Kurt:** _Well, hello, sailor. (4:47 PM)_

**Blaine:** _I’m not a sailor, I’m a MARINE :P_ _(4:47 PM)_

**Blaine:** _ <3_ _(4:47 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Hard to tell when you’re out of uniform. Aren’t we both at work? (4:47 PM)_

**Blaine:** _Tell me you want me too (4:47 PM)_

Ellipses appear and hold on screen, indicating Kurt is typing a response. Blaine keeps going, too impatient to wait.

**Blaine:** _I miss your mouth. I miss turning you on. I thought of you last night and it was so hot remembering how it feels to have your attention on me and you want me so much I wish we were closer right now so I wouldn’t have to pine and I could justfeel you there against me because we belong next to each other and I miss you so bad (4:49 PM)_

Blaine presses send, and the block of text is still sending when Kurt’s message crosses paths.

**Kurt:** _Blaine, this picture makes you the cutest half naked man in a dressing room full of half naked men, but I’m on stage in 15. We’re not doing this now. (4:48 PM)_

The message is like a bucket of cold water dumped over him. For once, he forgot about the time difference. Blaine’s text is still sending but he can’t call it back. He types frantically.

**Blaine:** _Ignore me! (4:49 PM)_

**Blaine:** _Wwe’l talk later (4:49 PM)_

Clearly he needs to add masturbating more frequently to his to-do list to function like a non-sex crazed person without Kurt. Sexting goes from hot to a terrible idea in a second’s time. Just because he’s waiting around doesn’t mean his time is his own. He’s at work and in a functional but boring, unromantic restroom that should absolutely not be used for ill-advised trysts to boost his ego.

**Blaine:** _Sorry (4:50 PM)_

**Blaine:** _I got lonely last night and you were asleep. Waiting for rehearsal to pick up again. (4:50 PM)_ He takes a selfie too soon into a pose for his smile to be as full as it should be, but he sends it anyway.

**Kurt:** _Soldier on. I’ll send you something when I get home. (4:52 PM)_

Blaine tries not to feel disappointed. His timing really is terrible, and Kurt is going to be too busy being the cutest chorus boy in all of off-Broadway for the next few hours to be Blaine’s emotional support.

**Blaine:** _Love you! Break a leg. (4:52 PM)_

Kurt doesn’t respond.

***

Blaine slips out of the restroom still strung out but recovering. He wants attention more than sex, and right now he can’t have either. He’s at work, and he’ll be a professional who doesn’t harass his husband into distracting them both.

“Hold on, you’re kind of a mess.” Tina stops him to fuss with his hair.

“I know.” He misses the security of gel. People made fun but at least he had it under control. Does wanting it back mean he’s regressing? He hasn’t acted this insecure and impulsive in ages either. Blaine pushes the chilling thought away. He isn’t depressed and undiagnosed this time. He isn’t even unhappy most of the time, other than missing Kurt and suffering through Cooper-related drama he doesn’t understand. He’s having a harder day than expected, but it’ll pass. 

“Let me fix you before everyone else shows up. Hold still. Have you seen May yet?” Tina asks. “Cooper stopped by with a CD demo of our song. We’ll see if that increases her likelihood of listening to how it could be.”

“Um, _our_ song?” He’s pretty sure he would remember recording a song to give a director.

“Cooper helped.”

“But I’m… That’s my part.” It comes out more petulant whine than fact.

“It was his idea to make it, so it was the least I could do. May already knows what you sound like.”

Blaine doesn't know when they would have had time to record anything, but he also gives them a wide privacy berth and has spent a large portion of his free time on the phone with Kurt. “You didn’t tell me.”

“You care too much what May thinks of you to be involved in _all_ my schemes.”

He still wants to be included.His mouth opens but nothing comes out.The sight of someone familiar in the rehearsal space whom he’s never met but recognizes immediately takes away his ability to form words. He forgets his jealousy of Cooper in the face of an impending chance to outdo all reasons to be jealous of anyone forever.

“She’s here.” Blaine pinches Tina’s arm. He doesn’t have to specify who ‘she’ is.

Tina pinches him back, hard.

“Ow!” He pulls away from her.

“You needed it more than me. Wow, May really doesn’t want to talk to me: she’s distracting me with a celebrity. Touché, May. If anything’s going to get in my way, I can accept a different item on my bucket list. Who knew ‘meet one of the world’s most famous women’ would be easier than ‘get even half of a song’?”

“Wow.” Blaine looks away to force himself to stop staring.

Tina nudges Blaine forward. “C’mon, let’s go meet your idol together.”

Blaine couldn’t possibly. He’s a mess – Tina just acknowledged as much. He isn’t ready to make any kind of good impression. He in no way looks how he should for meeting someone who is flawless. He should be at his best, not wide-eyed, out of control, and still reeling from how quickly he can make questionable decisions. He thinks he’s still dripping from the water he splashed on his face.

“Her songs are the soundtrack to my life! What if I ruin the soundtrack to my life?” It’s too soon in his life to find out if his idol hates him. He is not emotionally ready for his idol to hate him.

Tina nudges his feet to get him moving. “Ask for what you want, right? You want to meet her. You’re going to have to meet her eventually. Pick the circumstances you want. Do you want to bumble all through rehearsal when you have a crowd of gossipy background actors watching you flail, or do you want to do this right now?”

He walks like he’s in a trance, guided by Tina’s patient hand at the small of his back. “I’m still breathing? You’d tell me if I stopped breathing.”

“You’re doing great,” Tina laughs.

Blaine has never been so grateful to have Tina as his pushy best friend, because seconds later he’s face-to-face with his idol trying his hardest to be cool, and despite all his foibles, it turns out that this day is kind of amazing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally only going to have 12 chapters, so let’s say this is the one that makes it a baker’s dozen.

It all feels so real now that they have the full cast. This show is a thing that is actually happening. Pieces are coming together. Not only did Blaine get to meet his idol, but he gets to keep working with her. As May Hopkins promised, rehearsals will now focus on getting their starlet up to speed. Blaine can’t waste any of their time being less than perfect, and he thankfully doesn’t in the quick run-through they do of Nellie and Cable’s scene.

Tina is just as giddy as Blaine is. “She’s contractually obligated to call me ‘darling.’ It’s in the script. I can’t even hate her for having the best part. I want to be that awesome when I’m famous.”

“I want to be that awesome now.” Blaine wiggles his toes in the sand. She takes direction, works hard, and is so adorably kind. That’s who he wants to be. Not to mention she seems so put together.

Their friends listen indulgently as Tina and Blaine repeat their exclamations of excitement through the evening’s bonfire on the beach – all variations on how cool their new costar is and how amazing the opportunity will be.

Rachel sighs in put upon wistfulness. “I wish there were famous people in our show.”

Mercedes laughs by her side. “ _We’re_ the famous people.”

“Ooh, I like that even better.”

"How great would it be if we take both shows to Broadway at the same time?" Tina hasn’t tired of the fantasy that May Hopkins will give her the duet she wants and the public will be so enamored with their cleverness that they demand a chance to see the show eight nights a week. She’s running out of time, which just makes her wish harder.

“Or staggered a year apart so we wouldn’t be competing directly,” Rachel says.

“Yours is a new musical and ours would be a revival. Completely different Tony categories,” Tina tells her seriously.

“Then that would be amazing!”

Blaine glances at Cooper at the mention of how much competition sucks for friendships. Cooper doesn’t notice.

When career daydreams aren’t enough to hold all of their attentions, Tina and Cooper break away and get cutesy splashing in the water. They match each other enthusiastic bound for enthusiastic bound. Tina catches Cooper around the waist and drags him with her into the surf. Jane and Mason cuddle with their cameras held on opposite sides, and Artie scowls for show but doesn’t stop them from distracting themselves with their own cute display. Artie doesn’t complain at all despite how unfriendly the sandy terrain his friends selected is to him.

Blaine watches the couples with mostly at peace envy. Not having Kurt around is akin to the phantom feeling he gets when he forgets his watch at home and has to continue on throughout his day constantly aware that something should be there against his skin but isn’t. Distance doesn't worry him like it used to, but he feels it keenly.

Blaine checks his watch yet again and mentally calculates the time in New York. Lima and New York always felt a lifetime away, but they at least had the same concept of time. Late nights in LA are the worst - no way should Kurt still be awake.

Blaine snaps a picture of their friends and then a selfie to send to Kurt at a reasonable hour in New York. The stories about his unbelievably awesome day – awesome even in spite of how he embarrassed himself earlier with the premature sexting and vanity over ill-fitting costumings – will wait for morning.

He distracts himself with s’mores with the uncoupled members of their little group. Marshmallows and chocolate threaten to spill down chins and sticky fingers. It’s an indulgence. One brief indulgence. He can allow himself that much. He daintily licks his fingers. There will be cake at the opening/closing party, he decides. As amazing as the opportunity is, he looks forward to his body being his own again.

Despite the late hour, Kurt texts. ~~~~

**Kurt:** _Guess what? (10:16 PM)_ Kurt accompanies his text with a photo of him with a seductive eyebrow arch.

**Blaine:** _I’m not home yet. We need to work on our timing :( (10:16 PM)_

**Kurt:** _You’re running out of hours before I turn into a pumpkin, Cinderella (10:17 PM)_

**Blaine:** _Disco nap? (10:17 PM)_ He can hope, at least.

Kurt responds after a beat.

**Kurt:** _Save this for later: (10:18 PM)_

The thumbnail version of the picture attached almost makes Blaine choke on his tongue. With a glance toward how closely he’s being watched and where Artie’s cameras and crew are, he brings the image to full size. While Blaine carefully framed his photos so Kurt could only see what Blaine wanted to show, Kurt’s is a simple full-body shot, looking over his shoulder to the mirror in their bedroom. Their bed is rumpled behind him. Blaine wants to climb into those familiar sheets and pull Kurt along with him.

The fresh embarrassment from his sexting-fail keeps him from idling too long. Blaine turns his phone face down in his lap. Kurt will be here soon and he'll stop feeling like he's crawling out of his skin to get to him. 

Blaine’s phone vibrates again.

**Kurt:** _Do I need to actually stop? (10:23 PM)_

**Blaine:** _One of us needs to have willpower and I call not it. (10:23 PM)_

Blaine pulls up the collection of risqué to obscene pictures he took to slowly tease Kurt with. He meant to takes hours with them. He sends them all at once.

**Blaine:** _Have fun. (10:25 PM)_

**Kurt:** _!!!! (10:25 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Jackpot! :) go big or go home I approve (10:26 PM)_

_Insert short joke here_ , Blaine types out and then deletes. The jokes have become irritatingly predictable, but Kurt will try to soothe by telling him he's perfect, and Blaine doesn't need to be soothed. He’s fine. He knows he’s fine.

**Blaine:** _Since I can't go home.... <3 (10:28 PM) _

**Kurt:** _I’ll take it (10:28 PM)_

Blaine laughs aloud.

**Kurt:** _Not that I don’t want you home (10:28 PM)_

**Kurt:** _I want that more (10:28 PM)_

**Kurt:** _But close second! (10:28 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Holy shit (10:28 PM)_

With Kurt entertained for the foreseeable future, Blaine tucks his phone safely in his shoes. He’ll make up for interrupting Kurt at work by reconnecting later, when it’s entirely appropriate and private. He just has to wait for the time to be right.  

Blaine drags Madison with him to romp in the water and then build a sandcastle with Mercedes and Rachel’s help. He returns to several missed texts from Kurt.

**Kurt:** _Hurry up (10:50 PM)_

**Kurt:** _I’m_ _so ready (11:06 PM)_

**Kurt:** _So, so ready (11:06 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Insert innuendo here (11:06 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Probably something about “insert” (11:06 PM)_

**Kurt:** _You are the cutest don’t let me forget to tell you that (11:11 PM)_

**Kurt:** _When you call me back I’m going to tell you all about my favorites (11:11 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Help I can’t pick a favorite (11:25 PM)_

**Kurt:** _You (11:25 PM)_

**Kurt:** _You’re my favorite (11:25 PM)_

**Kurt** **:** _But I meant a picture (11:25 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Call me when you’re ready I don’t care how late it is (11:25 PM)_

Blaine shakes his head fondly.

**Blaine:** _Hey sweetheart, I’m on my way. (11:37 PM)_

He thinks of Kurt the whole ride home. He dials as soon as he’s through the door and down the hall, untangling his headphones to connect to his phone before Kurt picks up, calling out “goodnight!” to Tina and Cooper as he stumbles past.

Tina and Cooper laugh knowingly at him. Blaine can’t work himself up to care. He’s too worked up in other ways.

Kurt yawns into the phone when he answers. “Is it time?”

“Sorry, sorry, did I wake you?”

“ _Before you go-go_ ,” Kurt sings, sounding far away, which answers that question.

“Did I leave you hanging on like a yo-yo?”

“No. I got impatient. Catch up.”

Blaine puts in his headphones and pulls up their text conversation to fully appreciate the picture Kurt sent. “I’m sorry it took so long getting back.”

“Stop saying sorry and take off your pants.”

Blaine knows how much Kurt values guarding himself, but Kurt sleepy and without a filter cracks him up. He grins even though Kurt can’t see. “Do you want to get on Skype?”

“Ugh, nooo, too far. Not moving.”

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Maybe I’ll make coffee.” Kurt sounds less silly as he contemplates. “Mmm. Coffee.”

“Kurt, it’s like…” Blaine checks his watch. “Almost 3 AM for you. Do not make coffee. You can go back to sleep.”

Kurt’s words become more intentional and less sleep-addled. He over-enunciates to compensate. “Strip. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. I fell asleep naked. Catch up.”

Blaine swallows. “You don’t do that when I’m home!” He scrambles to comply.

“I’m keeping supply and demand in my favor.”

“Demand is _always_ in your favor.”

“I demand a naked husband. Is that in my favor?”

Blaine slips out of the few layers he has on. His skin prickles and then warms under his hands. After the gamut of feelings about himself today, this one is simple: performing completely for pleasure and he knows it'll be well-received. His hands skim down bare skin. The raw, exposed feeling from earlier is only good now. Blaine keeps his voice low in case sounds travel more than he suspects. “I wish you were here.”

“It won’t be much longer. I think you sent me enough pictures to last until I get there.”

Blaine huffs a laugh.

“To LA,” Kurt clarifies. “I already got _there_ without you. God, you made me miss you so bad, and I already did. Lucky me that you’re going to keep me occupied until I see you again – I could make a flipbook with those pictures of you taking off your clothes.”

“I thought that too! That can be you next craft project.”

“I think paper crafts are more your style, but we’ll see.”

Blaine smiles at their silly idea of pillow talk and squirms against the sheets he kicks down. Kurt will be here in a matter of days. Kurt in his arms, Kurt in the same time, Kurt in the same bed. The next time Kurt is up at 3 AM with him, it won’t be because they have no better choice.

“Tell me.” Blaine touches himself and imagines Kurt doing the same in the bed they usually share. It’s simultaneously perfect and not enough. “You promised to tell me your favorites.”

Kurt teases with just a touch of nerves, “What happens when my answer is clichéd?”

“ _I_ have a favorite.” Blaine keeps the image up on his phone. He’s a little bit in love with it.

“I only sent you one!”

“You are free and welcome to change that.”

“Anywhere I can imagine replacing your hands with mine. Those are my favorites. My favorites are the ones I can pretend I’m with you.” Kurt’s voice is hushed. Blaine wonders if Kurt is scandalizing himself for Blaine’s sake.

Blaine’s drops his phone over his heart. The picture of Kurt is stunning, but he hardly needs a reminder of how much he wants Kurt. It moves with each breath. He likes the weight of it against him. His hands skim over bare skin – Kurt wouldn’t skip drawing out each feeling, so Blaine doesn’t either.

The connection between them isn’t perfect. He strains to hear some sign that Kurt is there in the silence. His own breath labors through clenched teeth. He wonders how well Kurt can hear him.

“C’mon. Hearing you is the best part,” Kurt pouts, which answers that question.

“ _Kurt_.” Blaine does his best to sound scandalized. “I can’t.” Who knows how thin the walls are. This isn’t his home.

“You can be inconsiderate for a few minutes. I wanna hear you. I know you’re holding back.”

“The dulcet sounds of me being inconsiderate?” Sex makes its mark on his voice, coming out huskier when he pants more than a few syllables. He keeps it as low as possible.

“I know you’re close.”

Blaine closes his eyes and pretends Kurt is beside him, and it’s just a game that keeps Kurt from touching him. His skin flushes at the thought. He doesn’t need much – Kurt’s voice and the promise of his interest, the promise that he’ll be more than a voice soon.

Blaine cries out and then bites his own tongue. Kurt hums his satisfaction.

Blaine keeps his eyes closed until the sweat on his skin cools. “Don’t fall asleep yet, please. Did you fall asleep already?”

Kurt yawns and covers it with, “So that’s the married version of up all night to get lucky.”

Blaine launches into a soft version of the Daft Punk song, noise level be damned, and Kurt laughs as Blaine croons, “ _We’ve come too far / to give up who we are._ ”

Getting lucky is one of Blaine’s favorite euphemisms that Kurt introduced in his more coquettish stages of their relationship. While Blaine favors the silly or matter of fact, Kurt leans toward old fashioned – being intimate, having relations. ‘Getting lucky’ is where they overlap. Blaine feels lucky. Kurt is the most charming part of his charmed life.

Just a few days more. He’ll be even luckier.

“Love you.”

“I wore you out,” Kurt crows softly, smugly.

Blaine falls asleep with his earbuds still in and Kurt still on the line.


	10. Chapter 10

Lieutenant Cable gets an extra skip in his step today. Kurt will be in LA in less than 24 hours, and the timing isn’t quite right to fit the song perfectly, but Blaine has had "Tonight" from _West Side Story_ stuck in his head all through rehearsal - minutes go like hours, and hours go so slowly, but it’s close he could burst into song. Blaine’s mind is already on the hours he’ll fill with Kurt. His bag is packed to take to the hotel, and all of Kurt’s inspirational post-its with it. He’ll go one more night without Kurt, and then they’ll make up for lost time.

"What about our scene?" Tina presses yet again, despite how late into rehearsals they are. “Could we try it out? Let us show you so you can see how well it can work.”

Blaine finds himself holding his breath and his tongue. He can only guess that May Hopkins’ patience wears thin after all this time asking. He doesn’t want to press much harder. Or for Tina to push too hard with his implicit support by standing by her side. Being one half of a Cohen-Chang/Anderson combo pack makes him seen less like the most agreeable, easy to work with actor May Hopkins will ever meet (who she should therefore cast in all her future projects), and half of the reason he’s here is to build his career. 

On the other hand, they created something beautiful with the “Younger than Springtime” harmonies, and it becomes more gorgeous the more they practice at it. The discovery and wonder that were once just Lieutenant Cable’s are shared between them now. The audience could love it as much as they do.

May is more blunt in her response this time. "We're not changing a classic to serve your résumé. You're not supposed to speak English. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I’m running out of creative ways to let you know it isn’t going to happen. Not in this version. The rest of our rehearsal time is going to focus on Nellie. Your parts are set." 

Tina doesn’t acknowledge she’s heard anything resembling no. "How about we get a French translation, like they did in Spanish with the updated _West Side Story_? I bet Kurt could do it." 

"For free," Blaine agrees, although Kurt won't like that part. 

“Who?”

“My husband,” Blaine clarifies. He still sounds smug when he says it. Always, always so smug when it comes to loving Kurt. He can’t help adding, “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I’m _this close_ to closing rehearsals. I’ve never had a problem with getting the _wrong_ actors to be here. We are too close to the end here to be distracted by your posse.” May levels a stern look at Blaine and Tina in turn. “No more out of work actors showing up uninvited.”

Tina keeps talking, probably still making her case, but Blaine hears none of it. It’s just white noise compared to his guilt and his heart pounding in his ears. All he wants is to make his director like him, and instead she’s annoyed. He may not be great at reading her, but he can figure out that much. Every terrible consequence runs through his mind. If he’s a nuisance, he can be replaced, and it’ll be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to him in a life full of embarrassing things. Being a disappointment is bad enough to his people-pleasing heart. He didn’t realize Cooper inviting himself to rehearsals bothered anyone but him – the rest of the cast seemed to adore having him around. Cooper isn’t in his control, but he’s at fault.

“It’s an easy change.” Tina presses.

“So is replacing an actress with five lines. We’re doing the show as written. You don’t need to ask again.” May’s tone doesn’t invite further comment.

For a moment, all Blaine feels is relief. If they can’t ask anymore, May has one less thing to hold against them. And then he processes May’s threat. The official loss of the song is bad enough, predictable though it was. He knows how badly Tina wants her song and her chance to shine. He wanted it for her too. He can’t imagine what it would be like to do _South Pacific_ without Tina at all. ~~~~

Tina touches his hand when it’s time to go after a rehearsal of what he highly suspects is not his best work. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

Blaine’s hand stutters as he rubs the back of his neck. Tina should be more disappointed than him, and he should be asking after her. It doesn’t seem fair to have her concern, even though he’s grateful for it. “Give me a moment?”

“No committing seppuku when I’m not around to watch over you,” Tina warns, and then obliges his request.

Blaine approaches May in private, although private doesn’t mean alone when Artie’s crew films everything. Mason stays silently behind, ready to capture whatever Blaine has to say, which gives Blaine all the more reason to be extra composed. He’ll be defined in Artie’s documentary by moments like this.

“I’m so sorry about Cooper showing up and causing whatever distractions he’s caused. That’s not the kind of impression I wanted to make. I’ll let him know he can’t come by anymore.”

“Oh, I already did that for you.”

She’s as unreadable as ever to Blaine. But it doesn’t sound like she’s about to scold him again, so he exhales.

“Right, well, thank you.” His voice sounds fragile to his ears. He forces his smile to be more charming and less wobbly. “I understand completely if the answer is no, but I haven’t seen my husband in weeks, and he’s infinitely better behaved than my brother, and employed, so he’s _not_ an out of work actor; he’s taking time off from his show to see me. I was hoping he could be here. Would you consider an exception to your no outside actors rule if he promises not to interrupt?”

“Is he going to tell me he’d make a better Lieutenant Cable, too?”

Blaine blinks and tilts his head too politely at what he doesn’t want to believe he just heard yet. “No, I…what?”

“Get your people in order. I appreciate a healthy amount of backstabbing in this business, but I hired _you_. Make everyone else believe this part is yours too.”

Blaine numbly thanks her. He thinks it’s the nicest thing she’s said to him, but his stomach keeps sinking as he makes his exit in a daze. It feels like it should fall through the floor.

Tina waits for him by their rental car. "What took you so long?"

The lump in Blaine’s throat threatens to choke him. "I don't want to talk about it." 

Tina is kind enough to take him at his word. She has her own disappointment to attend to. If Blaine were in a better state, he would be comforting her.

For once, they keep the radio off.

Blaine stews on the drive in the fading evening light. From the very first time Cooper invited himself to rehearsal, Blaine knew something was up with him. He knew, and yet he refused to believe. He let himself believe he was making things up in his mind for Cooper. That _he_ was the problem in their relationship.

He can’t believe he blamed himself.

He wants to demand comfort from his husband, but there’s no privacy for that. Artie has the stupid car cameras, and Tina will kindly pretend not to listen but she loves gossip too much to tune him out even if she could while he breaks down half a foot away from her.

He texts Kurt.

**Blaine:** _Pease don’t try to call and don’t try to help and just tell me it’s going to be okay? (7:13 PM)_

Blaine’s heart soars at the ellipses that pop up in their conversation that let him know that Kurt is there.

**Kurt:** _I don’t know how someone so talented can get so nervous. <3 (7:14 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Here’s your it’ll be okay text: (7:14 PM)_

**Kurt:** _IT’LL BE OKAY! (7:14 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Okay? (7:14 PM)_

Not okay. Blaine is nowhere near okay.

**Blaine:** _I’m fine. (7:16 PM)_

No need to make Kurt worry. But no matter how strong Blaine’s dependence on his husband is, Kurt can’t automatically make everything better just by reminding Blaine he exists.

"Everyone gets in trouble sometimes. She's forgotten it already. Promise," Tina offers. "No matter how many times you go over it in your mind, you can't change how it went. Let it go." 

He actually thinks May Hopkins isn't mad at him. Exasperated, maybe. But she didn't take Cooper’s offer she implied he made.

It’s Blaine’s own anger that’s going to be the problem. And what he’s going to do with it.

***

Without the radio, it’s hard to keep track of time. Blaine startles when he recognizes none of the landmarks they pass. “Where are you taking us?”

“It’s our night to visit Mercedes and Rachel’s show. Are you just now realizing this isn’t the way home?”

He forgot. Kurt will be here tomorrow, and he forgot about everything else. It’s too late to turn back. There’s no way to leave short of jumping out of a moving vehicle. He’ll have two hours trapped inside a theatre with Cooper. Unable to talk, sure, but everything that will have to be said hanging between them, heavy and buzzing, overshadowing their friends on stage and Mercedes’ beautiful music.

He wants to be as far away from Cooper with the least amount of drama as possible, but figuring out seating is an extended logic problem he needs to do quickly. Tina will want to sit with Cooper, and normally Blaine would sit by Tina, but that only allows him a one-person buffer between him and Cooper. Mason will wedge himself between Jane and Madison, and either Jane or Madison might take pity on Blaine, but who know how they’ll situate themselves next to Tina and Cooper. Jake agreed to come for old time’s sake but doesn’t seem interested in actually being friends.

“Who’s sitting with Artie?” Blaine asks. The wheelchair accessible seat only allows for one companion seat next to it. Blaine has his solution.

Blaine takes their tickets off Tina’s hands and pushes Artie toward to entrance, leaving everyone else to make small talk before Blaine even has to acknowledge Cooper’s existence.

“Who pissed you off?” Artie breaks and Blaine stumbles but thankfully avoids crashing into his chair. “I didn’t invite you to push me around.”

Drama is like blood in the water to Artie. Blaine wouldn’t dream of opening up. He flushes instead. “Sorry.” He follows Artie the rest of the way to their seats at a distance.

“I don’t have permission to film here; I’m asking to be nice,” Artie adds. “I don’t promise not to recap what you tell me, depending on how entertaining it is, but it makes a better story coming from you and I’m willing to sacrifice that.”

“Pass.”

“I have a dead-end story if your director put the kibosh on Tina’s song for good, which means _nothing happens_ in my plot. Films can be depressing or boring, but not both. This is very big of me, and the least you could give me is something to work with.”

“Tina is plenty interesting. You don’t need more than that.” If Tina can’t be a star of the show, she can at least be the star of Artie’s story.

Artie gives Blaine a look. “Shouldn’t you want more attention than you’re getting?”

Blaine doesn’t like Artie’s tone. He gives him a look right back. “I’m not going to embarrass myself for a spotlight.”

“My goal isn’t to set my friendships on fire as kindling for my art. I want a good film, but it’s not going to be at your expense.”

Blaine is surprised enough to drop his playbill.

“What? I’m not going to make you look goofy unless it compromises the integrity of my film not to. That’s just sensible. Otherwise I need a future source of material, and I can’t burn through all my old friends like that. We’re like family.”

“Thank you.”

“Is that a, ‘thank you, I’ll give you something to work with’?”

“I’ll think on it.” It’s the least of Blaine’s worries.

The theatre lights dim and Blaine breathes a sigh of relief. Which doesn’t mean the memory of those few short words from May doesn’t rise like bile in his throat in the quieter moments. He can’t focus. He can’t forget. He’s aware of Mercedes and Rachel’s story on friendship in spite of fierce competition, but he dazes out of long sections that are probably important to the plot. He spends most of the show mentally rehearsing what he’s going to say to Cooper. And how to do it without his voice wavering or feeling like he’s losing even more control.

As the action on stage reaches its inevitable conclusion, Blaine hasn’t had enough time but he’s ready. Blaine resolves himself to doing something when the theatre lights come back up.

“Hey, when we get back, could you let me –” Blaine begins when he and Tina are a couple miles away from the theatre in their rental mini-cooper, breaking the silence again only to be interrupted.

“You’re so lost today,” Tina laughs. “Does this look like the way home?”

It doesn’t. It’s also strange to call Cooper’s place home.

“We made plans during intermission. You’d know that if you hadn’t disappeared. There’s a bar right around here where we can get celebratory drinks with Rachel and Mercedes and whoever else from their cast wants to come.”

Blaine sighs. “I don’t feel like –”

“Three hours weren’t enough to forget getting yelled at for, like, five seconds about something that doesn’t matter? I know you’ve got your weird thing about wanting to be May’s favorite, but you’ve got to get it off your mind. She’s not going to replace me less than a week before the show because I made a suggestion she didn’t like more often than she wanted to hear. I’ve been acting my non-verbal ass off and she knows it. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not leaving you yet.”

Blaine grits his teeth with a new wave of determination. He’s not going anywhere either.

“We’ll have fun one last time before you disappear with Kurt as soon as he lands, and if we party right, you won’t think about _South Pacific_ at all.” Tina parks before Blaine can protest any more.

He follows along for one more detour, promising himself he’ll get his resolution soon enough.

Among Mercedes and Rachel’s cast mates, Blaine spots Jane, Madison, and Mason busting grooves wildly. Madison and Mason both have their hands in the air. Mason encourages Jake to join them with a wave of gangly limbs. Blaine’s emotions are an envious mess at the joyous scene. And then Cooper wriggles his way in until he’s the center of attention and Blaine’s envy completely disappears. He realizes belatedly and with startling clarity he can’t hide his feelings. He can’t just be cool until they get home. At best, he can hope Mercedes and Rachel and their friends distract him from feeling gutted at his brother's betrayal that he'll have to deal with eventually and he holds it together long enough to keep it private.

And still he tells himself he misheard what May said. Or May misinterpreted a joke as a serious offer. That he’s blowing everything out of proportion. That it’s all in his mind. That when Cooper tells him he’s crazy, he should believe him.

“Wake up, Blainey Days.” Tina pushes a glass of champagne into his hand. Blaine accepts it numbly.

Blaine has just enough time to raise the champagne to his lips before Cooper spots them. He bounds over to greet them with a hug and a kiss for Tina and an appraising look for Blaine at his obvious displeasure. "What’s with you, Squirt? You want in on this?" 

Cooper reaches out and Blaine jerks away. 

"What is it, girl? Is Timmy down the well?" 

It's supposed to be a joke, but Blaine hears the mocking and knows it's not just in his mind, whatever Cooper might say later. Blaine’s tongue isn't sharp like Kurt’s and Blaine finds himself wishing he could borrow that skill. Kurt is a master of letting his displeasure be felt, but Blaine excels most at feeling wounded and betrayed. He doesn't have an arsenal of barbs, and he has never perfected the art of acting like he isn't hurt. 

"I just… Why?” He can’t get anything else out.

Cooper looks at him like he’s crazy.

"Hey, now, I'm just playing with you," Cooper says. “I forgot you’re so sensitive.”

Those words usually convince Blaine his own perceptions are wrong, but he won't be convinced today.  ~~~~

"Stealing my job is a joke too, right? I'm not allowed to care because you ‘don't mean it’ until it gets you what you want." 

He wants his brother to look guiltier than he does. Strangers stare at them both; the least Cooper can do is look guilty, instead of like Blaine is inconveniencing _him_.

“She said she doesn’t want someone so old.” Cooper pouts at the memory. “Me! Look how fantastic my hair is! There are plenty of 20-somethings who would kill for this hair, and Alan Cumming reprised a role he first did 15 years before; why can’t I?”

“Your argument for trying to steal my role is that you have good hair.” His voice is flat. Blaine doesn’t even know why he’s surprised.

“ _Blainers._ If I don’t have my ability to make people swoon, I have nothing to live for. I’m not done being the heartthrob. What if the next time I’m cast in _South Pacific,_ I’m the old French fart? I can’t fucking stand it. They bring you all the way from New York to play a part that I’m perfect for. I’m right here! I had to make her see.”

Blaine boggles at the more-dramatic-than-usual display from his brother. “I’m not giving you my part! Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

It’s too loud to go ignored. The party comes to a halt around them. 

“It’s called _South Pacific_. There are plenty of parts for you.”

Blaine forces his voice steady. “Name one.”

For once, Cooper doesn’t immediately have an answer. “There has to be one.”

“Because it’s called _South Pacific_? Tina is a lead and she has no lines; what do you think is left? The chorus? The servant? Should I go back in time 15 years to be the cute little kid again?”

“I understand that you might struggle to be happy for me if I got the part over you, but you’re overreacting for this situation. Read the scene you’re in.” Cooper emphatically gestures between them.

Blaine contemplates punching his brother in his perfect nose. Or completing the theater diva cliché and throwing champagne in his face. He sets down his thankfully-untouched drink instead. "It was a mistake to think we could share anything."

He doesn’t wait for any more excuses. He just leaves.


	11. Chapter 11

A blast of cool night air hits Blaine’s face as he flees. His eyes slowly adjust to the dark and irritate him by beginning to sting. His brother isn’t worth crying over.Sitting in his rental car for a good cry hinders his chances of a clean break, which is even more not worth it. Too many people in there are the kind who will follow him out. Someone will find him and demand he try to fix something Blaine isn’t sure he believes worked in the first place.

The city lights blur. He likes rules too much to speed, but he wants out of that club as fast as speed signs and traffic allow.

Blaine puts his phone on speaker when he sees Artie’s name flash on the caller ID.

“I hear you’re having drama when I’m not ready to film,” Artie says.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I’m already recording this conversation. I need you to reenact what I missed because my crew was too busy dancing to be useful and everyone between us was too tall. Cooper is already on board.”

Blaine feels even more insulted. “Why would you ask Cooper first?”

“So I could say ‘Cooper is already on board.’ Be persuaded. I need good material. Was this not you offering me good material?”

Hanging up is so rude that it’s painful to Blaine, but also so satisfying that he almost hopes Artie calls back just so he can do it again.

Blaine’s fingers itch to touch Kurt’s name on his phone the whole drive home. He wants the luxury of being able to fall apart with someone bound by wedding vows to piece him back together again. And to do so without Artie’s car cameras on him. He delays long enough to get back to Cooper’s and grab the emergency cookie dough from Cooper’s freezer before he calls at a time that’s early for the east coast and inconceivable for the west.

Kurt answers with sleep in his voice. "Are you okay? It's so early." 

"Are you alone? You're alone, right?"

"Jealous lover," Kurt teases, the sound of a smile traveling clearly. "That must be some vivid dream." He probably thinks he’s about to get laid long-distance.

"I want to talk to you alone. I locked myself in the bathroom. I haven't done that since the last time Cooper and I lived in the same house." 

The laugh disappears from Kurt’s voice. He soothes instead. "It's just me and Bruce-the-husband-pillow snuggled up together. It’s too early for anyone else to stop by. I don’t have to leave for hours."

Blaine grips the phone with both hands. He sounds like he's breathing a sigh of relief when he breathes "hi" into the receiver and holds his breath again.

"Bruce says hi back."

Blaine pictures Kurt waving the arm of the pillow toward the phone and fights back a hysterical giggle. "Can Bruce and I trade places?"

"Have you reached the point where you miss the bed more than you miss me? Cooper’s too materialistic to have a terrible guest room."

"I miss you," Blaine says. Unnecessarily. They both know.  If only he could crawl through the phone line and pop out the other end into Kurt’s lap. Apparate like in _Harry Potter_. Beam him up like in _Star Trek_. All these fantasy series have the right idea.

"We'll be making Bruce jealous before you know it." 

Blaine rests his head against the cabinet. He feels every one of the 3,000 miles between them. If he were with Kurt, he’d curl up against Kurt’s side and let Kurt soothe him, or at least calm him enough to sleep. "Tell me about the hotel."

"I booked a room at a Marriott? There's not too much to tell, unless you have a thing for continental breakfasts."

"That's fine. Go on." 

"About breakfast?"

"About our perfectly serviceable room at the Marriott." 

"I don’t know, sweetie, I actually booked based on price. Your sensibility has rubbed off on me. Maybe you forgot to take it with you.”

"You packed my bags."

"That I did." Kurt pauses to recall the specifics. "You get a lovely view of the parking lot. Nonsmoking, so who knows what it'll smell like, but at least not stale cigarettes.  It... Ooh, it has a king bed. It's going to seem so spacious compared to home. You'll end up on me, like always, but it'll have the illusion of space." 

"Being alone with you sounds perfect.”

“Are you okay?”

It’s the second time Kurt asks. Blaine wonders what he’ll say on the third. “I’m fine.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“You don’t have to worry. The show is fine, and Tina will be once she gets over her disappointment. Cooper –” Blaine shakes his head. He doesn’t know what to say about Cooper.

Kurt waits for Blaine to continue.

"Why did I put myself in a position where I'm supposed to count on him? He has his side of the country, and I have mine. I made a good faith effort to keep the childish behavior 15 years in the past where it belonged.  At what point do I get to stop trying to make it work?”

"You can go to our sensible hotel sooner. Your happiness is worth more than a hotel bill. Maybe not raid-the-mini-bar worth it," Kurt jokes. “But definitely hotel bill worth it.”

Blaine is glad Kurt is so calm. He leans harder against the medicine cabinet.

“When I go to our hotel, I want you to be here. I just want to come home to you. There's the time thing, and 3,000 miles, and it feels so far.” Being somewhere strange felt so good just days before.

"I won’t be far for long. I'll send you a picture of how disastrous my hair is after we hang up. Will that help?"

"Absolutely." He loves Kurt at what Kurt thinks is his most unflattering. "I'll try to be well-rested so I don't have to sleep when you’re here."

"Ambitious. Love you.” Kurt says it like a promise.

Blaine echoes him.

The picture that comes through once their call ends shows off-centered Kurt blowing a kiss, looking just as rumpled as promised. Blaine gives in and retrieves a Kleenex to blot away the tears that spring up. At least missing Kurt is worth crying over.

A knock on the bathroom door followed by Tina’s voice startles Blaine out of his trance. “C’mon, Blaine. There’s only one bathroom, and I have to pee.”

Blaine opens the door a crack. “Give me a moment.”

Tina pushes in the rest of the way to find him clutching his phone in one hand and the cookie dough in another. She wraps him in a hug before he can move. “Way to make off with the rental car.”

“Tell me you didn’t know,” Blaine pleads, his voice low.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t either if he wasn’t thinking with his ego. I want him to be my boyfriend, but you’re supposed to be my _on stage_ boyfriend.” Tina relaxes her hold. “Now, stay or go, but I’m peeing either way.”

Blaine sighs dramatically.

“Are you actually contemplating it? Aww, Blainey Days, I’ll hang out again in a minute.” She shoos him out of the bathroom and the lock clicks behind her.

Blaine holds his cookie dough for comfort. It doesn’t fix everything, but then again, that’s a lot to expect from pre-packaged dough. He's mostly confident that he can't eat enough cookie dough tonight to negatively affect his appearance for his show’s shirtless scenes in three days. He feels just dramatic enough to not care yet either, although give him an hour and he'll be consumed with guilt. He can’t afford to make himself sick – Cooper would just love to offer understudy services if Blaine were incapacitated – so he pulls off small chunks of dough to nibble at or suck on.

“Stop fellating the cookie dough,” Tina tells him as soon as she reappears.

Blaine sulks and bites into the glob in his fingers. “I’m making it last.”

Tina preheats the oven and pries the remaining cookie dough out of his hands. "We're staging a Too Young to be Bitter emergency meeting. Come on. Everyone else is going to be gone for hours. We'll have our own party, you and me, and it’ll be just like high school but better. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Me too." He’s been rehearsing with Tina everyday, but they haven’t been themselves. Blaine stares up at the ceiling to stop gravity and his rebellious eyes from working against him. They’re so easy to set off when he gets like this.

Tina frowns at the cookies she tries to shape. "I can’t believe you did this much damage on _my_ breakup cookie dough."

"I was kind of a jerk about its necessity, so serves me right that I'm the one eating it." He pouts at it the loss of the dough. Turns out he bought it for himself, and it’s not a typical breakup, but it’s still relationship over. He's had other moments where he felt like giving up on Cooper, but he's never contemplated it so seriously. Relationship are so, so fragile. Petty shit breaks the apart all the time. His reason won’t be the pettiest, and he won’t let Cooper minimize it either.

They raid the ice cream stash while they wait on the cookies, spoons dueling in a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Blaine keeps casting his gaze to the door Cooper doesn’t walk through.

“Do you want to talk about your feelings or just eat them?”

Blaine swirls his spoon in the dwindling pint as he works himself up toward what to say.

“I let myself think I was crazy.” He keeps coming back to that. For Cooper’s sake, he was willing to be crazy. Seeing things he knew were there, but told himself couldn’t be. “Cooper’s supposed to be perfect, so I’m crazy. What does that say about what I think of me?”

“That you’re a naïve cupcake? Not your worst quality.”

“Does that make this cannibalism?” He gestures to the ice cream pint. He misses ice cream so much. He’s the one who told himself he couldn’t have it, but how much is he going to blame himself for knowing what Hollywood wants and trying to give it to them?

Tina rests her hand on his. "Don't worry, I fully intend to make him feel terrible about himself."

"You don't have to do that." He’ll deal with it himself once he gets past feeling sad.

"Oh, but I want to."

"So, I'm sorry about your song," Blaine says. Tina's ready to take on his battles for him, but he doesn't know what to do for her in return. They shouldn't cross May again. Not with Cooper waiting in the wings for Blaine to mess up and May’s threat to replace Tina.

Tina shrugs. "We both had shitty days. I'm not ready to give up just yet." 

"I might be. On… You know. Him." He tests out how it sounds aloud. It doesn't make him feel better. "I don't know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’m never going to be good enough for him. I’m the kid he let have a bit part because it didn’t matter. I thought it meant something that he invited me to join his production when we were kids, but all it meant is that I didn’t used to be his competition.”

Tina frowns around an ice cream spoon. "Sometimes it's not fair to be jealous and you still are. Welcome to human emotion."

"Of course _his_ feelings are perfectly understandable." Blaine sulks and takes another delicate lick of ice cream off his spoon. 

"Hush, yours are, too. You don't want to know who I'd screw over for a few more lines.”

“Don’t tell me you want to be Lieutenant Cable, too.”

“Of course I do! You have more solos than I have lines, practically. I’d love a role like that.”

“Get in line,” Blaine snips.

She hugs him and Blaine accepts her comfort with an eye on the door. 

***

Blaine can’t sleep that night. He’s angry and his arms don’t feel right when they’re not flung over his husband. Weeks alone haven’t helped him forget how much comfort he takes in holding tight to Kurt. He stares into the dark until he can’t stand it anymore. Blaine spends a disoriented minute blinking at his watch thinking three hours have passed and he must have fallen asleep even if he can’t remember it until he realizes his watch still thinks it’s in New York.

He doesn't have time to be too upset to function. Instead, he arrives too early at the airport, as if that somehow helps Kurt arrive faster. He finds Kurt’s gate long before the plane lands. He takes the time to mentally run through his lines. He's been off-book for ages, but who knows what'll happen if he chokes with his unofficial understudy waiting in the wings. 

Kurt launches himself at Blaine as soon as he makes it through the gate. Blaine may be weeks out of practice, but their year together have him prepared with open arms. He realizes exactly how much he missed Kurt as soon as Kurt is in his arms. He’s going to make a scene to outdo all airport reunions and refuse to let Kurt go. He’s tempted to burst into song. He feels stronger and more capable from the first brush of their skin. Like he can handle anything.

Blaine kisses Kurt’s cheek while Kurt babbles, "I showed up at the airport three hours early, like that would get me here any sooner. I was going to bring you cupcakes, but then I was alone and bored at the airport for _three hours_ , so your cupcakes aren't the original cupcakes, but really they're the same, and they're in my bag when you –" 

Blaine cuts him off with a kiss. Kurt stops trying to form words and kisses back.

"And I'm here," Kurt finishes, dazed and smacking his lips. "Finally. I wish I packed as well for me as I did for you. As soon as we touched down, it was like, 'oh, right, sunlight. I thought Blaine took that with him.'"

Kurt dresses like he's still in New York. The rich neutrals and layered style has always suited him. Blaine frets immediately that Kurt won't like LA since he doesn't fit with all the sunshine and gaudiness that Blaine loves. Blaine’s unspoken investment in the city should be broken with Cooper’s trust, but he wants Kurt to like it anyway. 

Colors must be on Kurt’s mind too as he looks around their surroundings. "It suits you. You and your bubblegum color palette." Kurt shrugs off his outermost layer when they part. "I'm going to need so much sunscreen."

"Sorry."

"Only reason to be sorry is if you don't help apply it."  Kurt cocks an eyebrow. “Look at you! Did you get a tan?”

“I used enough sunscreen we could’ve bought stock in it.”  Which isn’t a no. He couldn’t block it all out.

“You look good with a little color in you.”

“I always have a little color in me,” Blaine quips. Kurt toys with the sleeve of Blaine’s shirt, and he doesn’t have to say a word for Blaine to have him figured out and scolding fondly,  “I’ll let you find the lines later. It’s not a game to play in the airport.”

If Cooper weren't after his role, Blaine would be tempted to play hooky with his husband. Keep driving until they hit the beach, or take advantage of early check-in and catch up on all the sleep they’ve both missed. He wouldn't do it, because that would be unprofessional, but he'd daydream about it a little. Now it's not a fantasy he can entertain. No one is taking this role from him, not even his idle fantasies.

Kurt waits for the privacy of the rental car before he probes further. “Do you not like LA anymore?”

“It’s been an experience.” It’s not what he expected. For all his talk about being someone new in a new city, he feels like a child again in so many ways, insecure in who he is and whining for attention and brushed off as a nuisance. Like he’s so far from his full potential but trying so hard. Starting fresh and being someone new is less easy than regressing. “I didn’t think it would be so hard.”

"I can't believe _anyone_ likes it here," Kurt gripes without feeling. "Cities aren't meant to sprawl like frat boys on a crowded subway." 

“I’m not actually mad at Los Angeles, Kurt.” He appreciates it anyway.

“I know. I promise to be just as petty to actual people. I thought you were doing okay. What happened?”

Blaine’s fingers brush against the edges of Kurt’s wedding ring. Kurt’s here, physically here, with a hand Blaine can reach out and hold while they idle in traffic. "Remember in high school when I told you I would happily play the Bernardo to your Tony?"

"Not true?" Kurt’s lip quirks upward. Unlike most spouses, Kurt is amused and delighted when his puts himself first. 

"True then. Mostly. Not anymore." He loves Kurt. They both know how much. But he won't settle for less if he doesn't have to, and he isn't going to volunteer. He's not happy just to die at Kurt’s hands halfway through the show. At least when he dies in _South Pacific,_ he almost makes it to the end. 

"Good." Kurt says. His lip quirks. “Progress?”

"I’d like to think I would be gracious, of course, if it had been you." And if Cooper were cast as Lieutenant Cable, Blaine would be here to watch him perform, just like he’s been here every time before. He’d be jealous, but he wouldn’t try to maneuver Cooper out of the role. If only he could expect the same.

"You don't want to know how hard that was."

"And yet here we are, without a single jealous meltdown in ages. How did we get here?"

"A lot of missteps and make up sex," Kurt quips. 

Blaine groans. 

"It's Cooper, isn't it? That advice doesn't transfer for dealing with anyone else. And couples therapy with Cooper sounds terrible. You know he'd use it as a chance to monologue to a captive audience for an hour."

“Who _doesn_ _’t_ want to be Lieutenant Cable at this point?” Blaine sighs. He has no clue what to do about Cooper.

“I’d rather be Nellie. Hold the predictable jokes.”

“You’d be so cute.” Blaine cheers himself with the thought of Kurt cartwheeling his way through one of Nellie’s songs – “Wonderful Guy” if he flatters himself, not “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair”, adorable as the bathing suit scene is.

“Tina and I will do our own special version in the hotel lobby,” Kurt jokes. He stretches in the sunlight in a rental car with a pleased, squinty look out the window.  “It’ll be two hours of Nellie and Liat keeping all the best songs for themselves. And Cable lives because you’re too cute for any other alternative.”

“I bet the twins and Jane would love to film that.” Blaine smiles at the mental image. They've been appeased by putting on a show for no one but themselves before. Being seen is validating, but sometimes so is making art exist. He would gladly spend two hours that way.

“Jane _and_ Madison and Mason? How many people from Lima are here that I don’t know about?”

“Tons. I can’t escape high school or, like, my whole childhood just by being somewhere new with some new clothes.”

“But the transformative power of makeovers!”

Blaine thinks Kurt is mostly kidding in his protest. “Same old Blaine underneath.”

“Guess you’re stuck being charming and handsome and good forever.” Kurt fake sighs.

“You’re so hard to whine to,” Blaine laughs. Kurt excels at making him feel good about himself.

“I can be better.”

“No. Being showered with compliments is not a problem.”

Kurt keeps them up for the rest of the ride, stopping only when Blaine parks the mini-cooper in the lot outside the rehearsal space. Kurt moves to leave, but Blaine holds him back.

“Just a little longer.” Blaine places Kurt’s hand over his heart.

“Of all the things to do in a rental car.” Kurt teases his thumb over Blaine’s wrist.

Blaine closes his eyes and soaks up having Kurt close again. The world feels a little righter. The sun shines as brightly as ever on Los Angeles, but now it feels like it means more.  If he holds onto this feeling, he can accept the fallout that began the day before.

"How do I make today easier for you?" Kurt asks.

Blaine spends a moment picturing Kurt’s magnificent wrath unleashed on his behalf. Like Tina, Kurt doesn’t hold back. He’ll go for the throat and think of how to apologize later. He'd succeed in making Cooper feel terrible, if not necessarily for the right reasons. 

Blaine steadies himself before responding, "Don’t help too much? I don't want to be rescued."

Kurt rolls his eyes in response. "I need you, too. I missed you. I didn't realize how much until Elliott told me I was pining. If I didn't tell you enough..."

"This isn't about that," Blaine soothes. Kurt did so well at making him feel loved despite the distance. "But things got hard, and now you're here, and it feels a little like cheating on something I'm supposed to do on my own.”

Kurt looks vaguely insulted.

“Kurt, you’re my anchor, and the love of his life, and a million other amazing things, but I can work my way out of my own disasters. Even if I don’t know how yet. I don’t need you to rescue me; I just need you to be one less thing that’s hard. No saving the day,” Blaine repeats.

"You confronted bullies for me."

Blaine smiles at the bittersweet memory from when they were both young and naïve but doing they best they could. "You can buy me lunch."

"Fine. Deal. Until then, I’ll try to be as useless as possible to you.” Kurt smirks at his own joke.

“And I love that about you.”

Kurt leans across the console for a kiss. Blaine glances quickly at the clock before meeting him halfway. He’s running out of time, and rehearsal promises to be hard enough that he should mentally prepare. But kissing Kurt is simple and full of certainty, and Blaine could use more of both right now.


	12. Chapter 12

Tina is in a mood at their next rehearsal. Blaine wonders if his funk transferred. He picks up other people’s moods easily, and maybe she does as well. She has her own reasons to be disappointed – Blaine almost had his role of a lifetime snatched away from him, but Tina lost the possibility of hers becoming more, of leaving her mark on musical theatre history, and now she’s left with a few lines and no way to sing.

Blaine isn’t sure whether to soothe or stand out of her way. Either way, he wishes Kurt sat in on a better rehearsal. One that doesn’t involve the director shouting, “Settle down the sex show, Chang!”

“It’s Tina Cohen-Chang!” Tina snips back.

Blaine rubs his nose from where he and Tina clashed together before getting back into place for the tasteful fade to black for “Younger Than Springtime.” Tina grabbed hard enough that he feels it on his skin. He suspects she’s testing out how to make her presence felt without being able to say anything.

Blaine fixes the loose button-up shirt, borrowed from Cooper weeks ago as a stand-in marine uniform, so it closes back over his plain t-shirt underneath, ready to be stripped off again. He steals a glance at Kurt, who grins proudly. Blaine feels just a little guilty at having a guest again, even if his previous guest was always uninvited, but Kurt swore to be unnoticeable and won May’s begrudging approval. Kurt applauds silently as soon as he sees that Blaine is watching.

May Hopkins pinches the bridge of her nose. "This scene should be solid by now. I don't... Okay. We all have off days. You’re too eager. Be more demure, like we practiced.”

"What? We just established she's not afraid of him," Tina replies more innocently than believable.

“Tone it down. Same with blatantly staring at his perky marine ass. You can do that on your own time.”

“It’s perfectly reasonable given the circumstances,” Tina mutters at a volume only Blaine can hear and has Blaine hiding a laugh behind his hand. To May, Tina raises her hand and doesn't wait to be called on. "If we’re going to revive show from the 40s, half the point should be changing it to something new. Who says Liat has to be demure every time? Eager isn't _bawdy_. Do you really want a great romance built off of ‘she deigns to let him fuck her’? Maybe 70 years later she should finally be allowed to speak or _have a little agency_.”

Blaine hides behind his hand for a new reason and keeps his mouth shut for once. Tina gives him a look he acts like he doesn’t see.

May ignores Tina to give feedback to Blaine. "We need a little more heat from you, Anderson. Remember, you're a marine.”

“So I can’t say anything and I also can’t do anything. Great,” Tina mutters, thankfully too low for their director to hear. “What the hell, it’s not like I reached for your belt. She isn’t even allowed to _want_ it?”

Tina’s barely restrained anger sets Blaine on edge. May’s threat is fresh in his mind, if not hers. At a volume only Tina can hear, Blaine murmurs, "Hey. Be gentle with me." 

Tina rolls her eyes at him, but not without fondness.

“I’m serious. Considering the time period, this could very well be my first time.”

“And then you die. Are you a girl in a horror film?”

From the director’s box, May calls, "The people paying to see a show here are paying to see a classic. We're giving them a classic. Your line, Anderson.”

Blaine dutifully backtracks to, “ _Are you afraid?_ ”

Tina’s eyes flash. “ _No_.” She pulls him closer, but more gently like Blaine requested, like he’s the skittish one.

“Let him reach for you first,” May says.

Blaine tries to look encouraging. Emotions run high and he’s caught between pleasing two people. Tina’s mood makes it hard for him to lose himself completely into Lieutenant Cable, because Blaine Anderson wants to cheer up his best friend. He says his lines sweeter than usual.

“Again,” May calls.

“ _Are you afraid?”_

“ _No_.” Tina’s hands stop short of grabbing before she looks inquisitively up at Blaine. Her lips part, but she drops the “ _yes_ ” that’s meant to follow when he reaches for her, and Blaine knows she hasn’t forgotten one of her few lines.

Blaine drops an unscripted kiss to Tina’s forehead.

May sighs. "I'll take it. Moving on." 

***

Blaine breathes a sigh of relief as soon as the door clicks shut behind them in the perfectly adequate room at the Marriott.

“God, I love hotel rooms.” Kurt stretches on the bed like a starfish.

“Kurt. You have a bed at home.” Blaine watches in amusement. It’s not even a nice hotel room. It is as adequate as described. The towels are white, the art is nondescript, and the view gives no incentive to open the blinds. Kurt and Blaine have nicer sheets at home, and a comforter they don’t immediately push into a rumpled pile on the floor.

“I hope I never get fancy enough that I tire of hotel rooms. Fame sounds nice, but not the level of fame where room service doesn’t make you giddy.”

“You want room service?” Blaine asks.

“I want the _option_ of room service. And free cable. And pool access. Are you over pools already?"

"I don't think it's possible to be over pools."

Blaine gestures for Kurt to slide over. Kurt makes space on the king size bed. They lie on their sides facing each other, nose to nose. The hotel feels completely outside of where Blaine has been for the last few weeks. It's nondescript enough it could be in any city. No one knows the address where to find them. He and Kurt might as well drop off the map completely. 

Blaine sighs contentedly and bumps against Kurt’s nose again. Calm washes over him. Kurt makes him feel like he’s in paradise again. “We’re not going to be able to get up again, are we?”

“Are you going to tell me the whole story now? The only person I’ll think less of is Cooper,” Kurt promises.

Blaine makes a face in response. He’s avoided it for a reason. “Pity party was yesterday. You missed it.”

“What’s today?”

“T-G-I-K-D.” Blaine counts out each letter on Kurt’s fingers. “Thank God It’s Kurt-Day. It mostly involves watching my husband get a kick out of our hotel.”

 “Ah. We’re going with the whole thing where you say that it’s fine and I nod along and pretend I believe you right now.” Kurt’s lips purse to show just how much he’s humoring Blaine.

“What matters is doing the best I can these last few days and performing my ass off. I’m not going to be any good if I overthink all of Cooper’s hints that he’d be better. If I suck, he might as well have my part, and that’s so not happening.” He’s moving on from what Cooper did to what he’s going to do about it. He doesn’t have an answer, but he only has a few days to figure out what he wants to come next for him. Attempts to grow closer with his brother had the opposite effect, and how much effort does Blaine want to put in to fixing them when effort between them has already been so one-sided? He feels good about the performance he gives as Lieutenant Cable, but he isn’t as certain what May Hopkins thinks, other than he’s not worth firing. He’s running out of time to impress her, although he’ll try his hardest. Nothing solid is set for his career yet, despite all the early morning auditions. He came to LA for a list of reasons, and not a single item can be checked off yet. All he knows is not fighting now will leave a bad taste in his mouth. No way is he giving up yet.

"Do you want to rummage through the closets with me?" Kurt’s expression is soft. He clarifies, “When we’re willing to get up.”

"You are the only person who hopes the hotel staff doesn't clean thoroughly enough to notice if the previous occupants left something behind." It’s a game for them. They rarely get to play, as hotels are a luxury. They’re both fanciful enough to make up stories about the people who came before them: how the lost umbrella or other left behind item came to be; why it would be left, or why it wandered off; whether it likes its new home.

Kurt doesn't move from the bed. "Do you want to leave something for someone else to find?"

The idea of the next person stumbling upon what they leave behind and wondering about them charms Blaine, but he shakes his head. "A hotel room’s not exactly a time capsule. I like all my things worth leaving behind, and they'll just be cleaned out when we leave and then I won't have them. Anything I don't like is just trash. There's no point to it."

"Carve your name into the woodwork?" Kurt teases without any seriousness behind the suggestion.

"Tacky property damage isn't my style, but I like the sentiment.” He wants to leave his mark, something someone else could find in the same game they play, but respectfully. Better to create than destroy. He’ll never be the kind of famous where he wrecks things because he can. And he’s so not there yet anyway.

“We could put a post it note with ‘Kurt plus Blaine’ somewhere hidden.”

“Besides the one in my suitcase, that is." He doesn’t want to give up the love notes that buoyed him when apart from Kurt, but they could make new ones.

"With a heart around it," Kurt says dreamily. "Maybe a lot of post its. We’ll claim this hotel room as our own." 

A writing pad waits by the phone. Blaine springs from the bed to retrieve it, energy high again with their idea. He tears it into a square and then with a few missteps makes a paper crane from memory. With a pen also borrowed from the hotel desk, he neatly prints their names across the wings.

Kurt lifts his head to watch. “Thank you for the origami menagerie, by the way. I’m still finding them. There was one in the cereal, and one in the couch cushions, and another among all the frozen foods you told me not to eat. I went on a scavenger hunt whenever I missed you. In completely unrelated news, our apartment is a disaster.”

Blaine drops the paper crane onto Kurt’s sprawled form. It floats gently.

“Cute.” Kurt perches it on a finger and blows to see if it will float away. Its tiny wings twitch.

“I’m not making enough to make wishes on,” Blaine warns.

“Make 100 and wish for 10 times what you actually want.” Kurt’s pragmatism extends even to wishing. He amends with, “Make at least two so she doesn’t get lonely.”

“Bossy,” Blaine teases with just as much affection. Blaine folds more shapes from memory and scribbles hearts or initials on them. His hands feel better when they’re busy.

Kurt holds out his hand for the next sheet of paper.  _Courage,_ he prints. Predictably. Endearingly.Kurt sticks it above Blaine’s heart. It hangs on by one corner. Blaine’s lip quirks until Kurt’s mouth is on his with a satisfied smack. 

"Close your eyes. I’ll leave you more notes, and we'll see what you find while you're still here. Whoever finds what you don’t should feel very inspired." 

Blaine turns away as instructed and looks at his phone instead. He hasn't paid attention to it since Kurt is here now. He frowns at the block of missed messages. 

**Cooper:** _RU coming back? (4:50 PM)_

**Cooper:** _U left stuff here u know u have to come back (5:21 PM)_

**Cooper:** _T and I will have fun without u know that drives u cray (6:33 PM)_

**Cooper:** _Update: ts no fun without u :P (7:59 PM)_

True to his promise, Kurt doesn’t try to fix anything, although he reads over Blaine’s shoulder like the good gossip he is. Blaine turns his phone face down and smothers it with a pillow.

"Close your eyes," Kurt repeats, but with affection. 

Blaine obliges. He listens to Kurt flit around the room and Kurt’s beloved free cable providing _fictional_ petty drama to distract from his own. Exhaustion from his own drama, however, catches up with him now that he lets himself be still. Blaine’s thoughts grow fuzzy, his chin drops, and his consciousness drifts.

His eyes open next when he feels Kurt’s lip against his and Kurt’s body hovering over his on the expansive hotel bed. He settles into the unhurried kiss.

"I didn't mean to waste our time." Blaine wonders how long he’s been out. It felt like seconds but the light filters in softer now. Kurt’s background cable is on a different program and the volume turned down. So much for not letting either of them sleep while in the same city. He’d be more upset if he didn’t feel so much better.

"Time adorably spent," Kurt says indulgently. "You said you have to be at your best, which means I have to let you sleep sometime. I'll keep you up later."

Blaine delightedly squirms at the promise. “After the pool. Or room service.”

Long, gentle fingers trace along Blaine’s profile, mapping out his features. “We could skip it all and go to bed.”

“We’re in bed.” Blaine doesn’t feel rushed. They’ll get where Kurt is hinting.

“Do you need to practice being undressed?” Kurt’s lips bump imperfectly at Blaine’s jaw. He trails kisses down Blaine’s neck.

“Tina’s not that rough.” She was, but he feels protective of Tina and her dream deferred. He’d be mad too. “Today was weird. Maybe all of LA is weird.” He tilts to give Kurt better access.

“The offer stands. May I?” Kurt asks. Kurt’s fingers hover near Blaine’s ungelled hair.

Blaine makes a questioning noise against Kurt’s skin that Kurt takes as a yes. He never expressly told Kurt not to touch, but he also tends to pull away or move Kurt’s hands if they venture beyond a brush behind his ears, which has led to some awkward kisses over the years.If he shuts off the voice that says he shouldn’t let Kurt so near his imperfections, it feels good. Really good. Kurt massages into curls and Blaine feels appreciated. Desired. Like all his Cooper-relateddoubts about himself are as ridiculous as they make him feel.

Kurt pulls down on the collar of Blaine’s shirt in his pursuit of new skin to uncover. Blaine doesn’t have to look to know what causes Kurt’s pause. “This is new.”

Blaine lets his eyes stay closed. One more thing to feel raw and oversensitive about. He shifts a little but doesn’t dislodge Kurt’s fingers from stretching the neckline as far as it will give to touch the hair Blaine has let grow.

“Yeah, well, I have to look like a marine somehow. You have two days before I can do anything about it.”

Kurt ignores Blaine’s defensive tone and continues conversationally.  “How does it feel?”

“A little scratchy at first but now it just is.”

“I mean, how do you feel about it?”

Blaine pauses and chokes back his automatic response of _fine_. He wants to be honest. “I’m trying to be cool with it, because no matter what I do, this, along with the, you know, Medusa hair and funny proportions, is really what I look like.”

He doesn’t say it’s hard. Blaine keeps his imperfections as secret as he can years into a marriage, and Kurt has politely never commented on the times between waxings when it starts to come back. Blaine never lets himself go long enough to see the full effect. He hasn’t since he was a teenager and his body was still changing. It’s a surprise to both of them, really.

He doesn’t say he stared in the mirror, uncomfortable and transfixed, at the image of what he could look like, and how different he seems. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable so much as sensitive. One word or look that says this isn’t a good change, and Blaine will change right back.

“Remember prom?” Kurt asks.

“So unflattering,” Blaine sighs. That disastrous hair gel ban. He’d been sleeping with Kurt for months but painstaking managed to keep Kurt from knowing how out of control his hair could get. All of that hard work literally washed down the drain. Kurt holding his hand was all that kept him from running away.

And yet the way he wears his hair now isn’t that different, and he’s mostly at peace. The curls aren’t as tightly wound as they would be if he let his hair go completely natural, but fall into relaxed waves. Blaine is relaxed enough to let Kurt touch.

“I love it when you let me see.” Kurt’s fingers hook into soft cotton. “Are you going to let me take it off?”

Blaine finds himself searching in Kurt’s expression for some kind of approval before he forces himself to stop. He's so tired of feeling unsure in his skin, and he’s not going to let it hold him back anymore. He leans in. “I could use the practice.”

***

They sprawl. After a requisite amount of post-coital cuddling, Kurt pulls away to sit upright and browse the room service menu. Blaine’s arm winds around Kurt’s calf, holding him close and trusting Kurt not to knee him in the face. Kurt touches back without intent, like he’s reminding himself he can. Blaine twitches when it tickles.

“If we share what we order, it’s like we both get two things,” Kurt muses. He grins giddily down at Blaine, and only tangentially due to the prospect of room service. He wraps himself in one of the hotel bathrobes for the novelty of it. He settles coyly into the plush material. It’s too hot to keep on for long, but Blaine will enjoy that too.

Blaine is all smiles and loose limbs, not so neatly put together for once, and he doesn’t bother to wear a thing. He feels silly for having any qualms about his body after being appreciated thoroughly. He tingles down to his toes.

“Pick something healthy – you’re the only one on vacation here.” Blaine mumbles his request into Kurt’s thigh.

“So, not sharing with you, then.” Kurt’s hand passes through Blaine’s curls.

A phone vibrates under the pillow meant to muffle it and keep the outside world out. Blaine can guess that it’s Cooper. What Cooper wants is less easy to guess.

Blaine moves the pillow from over the phone to over his ears.

Cooper is nothing if not determined: Blaine’s phone rings so often that Blaine is afraid to block it in case he accidentally answers instead. Tina starts calling too.

Blaine finally shoves his phone toward Kurt. “See if it’s actually Tina, please.”’

Kurt arranges himself into a poised position. “Blaine’s receptionist, how may I direct your call? Hi, Tina, you sound an awful lot like Cooper today.”

Blaine is even more grateful for Kurt than a moment before.

“No, I’m not going to put Blaine on. I don’t care what you think is reasonable; I like him best.” Kurt’s voice remains crisp and breezy. He slinks past, pulls the robe tighter around himself, and blows a kiss at Blaine as he lets himself into the hallway with the click of the lock behind him. Presumably if Blaine doesn’t overhear, it doesn’t count as meddling. Blaine is tempted to follow Kurt to watch him verbally eviscerate someone while standing by the ice machine in a short robe, but he starts putting himself back together again instead.

Maybe Blaine can go back to New York with Kurt instead of sticking around after Kurt has to leave again. Kurt flies out the morning after _South Pacific_ ’s performance so as not to miss another night in his own show. The airline will charge Blaine a fee to change, but it shouldn't be enough to prevent him from considering what it would be like to be home that much sooner. He wouldn't be anyone's inconvenient guest, or stuck in their paradise hotel room alone if he and Cooper can't make amends. However, Blaine would have to give up the auditions that his agent purposefully scheduled for after the show. He’d have to give LA up, most likely, unless his earlier auditions went more smashingly than thought. But what does he care of prospects in his brother’s city if he wants nothing more to do with his brother?

Kurt knocks to get back into their room.

“Cooper says he’s sorry.”

“Acting practice sorry, or actually sorry?”

Kurt beckons Blaine over and kisses his temple. “He also says Tina is really good at making people feel bad about themselves when they deserve it. I should’ve called dibs, but good for her.”

“Good.” Blaine still isn’t satisfied. If their relationship means anything, Cooper should feel bad all on his own.

“And then what? Let him be sorry?” Kurt knows him too well to assume that’s it.

Blaine has been so uncertain when it comes to Cooper, but it feels truthful when he says, “If I leave LA and nothing is fixed, I think that’s it. I don’t think there’s any fixing it after that.”

He has time left, but not much longer.

***

They dress rehearse in the actual theatre instead of the rehearsal space that has housed them for the last few weeks, and they pull off dress rehearsal without a hitch. Tina seems to have reached some kind of worn-out peace. Blaine feels more peaceful as well. Stealing his role becomes more difficult for Cooper the closer they get to opening. The Lieutenant Cable costume fits snuggly like Tina suggested, and Blaine notes with satisfaction that Cooper won’t be able to fit into it now without making Cable look like he’s had a laundry accident. Athletic reunion sex with Kurt counters using cookie dough as emotional regulation and his waistline is still where he wants it. Blaine intends to skip the pre-show cast outing in favor of one last Kurt-heavy workout. Everything except Tina’s disappointment is working out.

At the end of the second act when he’s supposed to be dead off-stage, Blaine stands in awe of the empty space that will be filled by people coming to see them. The loss of Tina’s would-be role is that much more keen seeing where it could have been. All those seats that will be filled with people who could’ve seen something amazing and new.

Tina eyes the expansive empty audience with him. "Are you looking wistful for me?”  

Blaine mildly shushes her as he watches from the wings as Emile de Beque is reunited with his family through a children’s song and lush orchestrations. At least some characters get a happy ending, even if it can’t be theirs.

“They can’t hear us, you know,” she says as Ngana and Jerome fling their arms around Emile’s neck.

Blaine remembers playing that role. He flung himself into Cooper’s arms the same way after their bows.

“Did you know that in at least one draft of the musical, Lieutenant Cable was supposed to live?” Blaine asks, eyes still on the scene. He read it in one of the books Tina picked up to find inspiration for making Liat more than a tragic, beautiful prop.  “They couldn’t imagine a future for him after going back to marry Liat that the audience would accept. It's like his masculine redemption for spending the second act inactive and unsure of what he'll do. Dying in battle means the audience can still love him."

“Add that to the list of _South Pacific_ disappointments. Maybe one day…” Tina shakes off the wistful mood the theatre inspires. "Let's get this over with. Goodbye, amphitheater full of new fans who instead will struggle to even remember my name. Goodbye, launching a trend of revivals that don't bank on people loving the same shit they did half a century ago.  Goodbye, Broadway transplant. Goodbye, Katie Couric special interview. Goodbye producers throwing money at my feet when it's my turn to direct. Goodbye, Lifetime movie in which I would have let you play yourself.” 

"Does it help if some of that wasn't likely anyway?" Blaine offers tentatively. He doesn't think it will. Blaine’s fantasies have been known to spiral in the same dramatic, grand way. 

"Well, no one has ever faulted us for not dreaming big enough. God, this it morose."

“Tomorrow’s still our day.” He squeezes her hand. “We’re going to be amazing.”

May calls all the actors back out for last minute notes before dismissing them for the night. Tina and Blaine start the way they started, squeezed side by side. Like their rehearsals, they’re the first to arrive and last to leave.

“Don’t go yet,” Tina warns, holding Blaine by her side. “Our song deserves this space. Sing it with me one more time.”

“Won’t we get in trouble?” Blaine wrinkles his nose. No more getting in trouble for him if he can help it. “Kurt and I were talking about putting on our own version of _South Pacific_ at the hotel so the two of you can take all the best parts. Won’t that be fun? Artie can film, even. It’ll be like that anti-prom we were going to have back in high school.”

“Adorable, but we’re not doing that right now. We’re doing this. It’s not breaking in if we’re already here. Let me have this fond farewell to what might have been.”

He can’t argue. But he can ask, “What about the pre-opening/closing night cast party that’s supposed to start soon? Didn’t you want to go to that? That could be fun.”

“Are you even going?”

“No.” Not since Jake let slip that Cooper is invited since most of the sailors adore him. Blaine may want Cooper to apologize, but he’s not going to force himself through a potentially awkward-as-hell evening on the off-chance that Cooper decides to follow through. “But they’ll miss you.”

“This is where I want to be. I can always catch up with them later. Places!” Tina claps her hands and they scramble to comply.

At Tina’s insistence, Tina and Blaine make their own video recording of “Younger Than Springtime”. Artie agrees to film for them. Kurt agrees to watch.

“At your line, Blaine,” Tina instructs.

“Who’s the director here?” Artie asks.

“Me.” Tina grins in satisfaction.

“ _Are you afraid?”_ Blaine asks, keeping the tentative sweetness from the rehearsal the day before.

“ _No_.” She once again skips the _yes_ that’s supposed to follow. Her eagerness isn’t restrained when she reaches for him, but she keeps the gentleness Blaine requested.

They rehearsed “Younger Than Springtime” so many times in their tinkerings with the harmonies that following the version with Tina doesn’t trip him up. It’s as gorgeous as he remembers. Tina is good. She does as much as she can with so little to say. Liat’s love shines. Blaine feels even more honored to be acting with her. It’s a beautiful song, but hearing both voices makes it special.  All the wonder and joy of discovering love is playful between them. 

Together, they crowd around to watch Artie’s footage of the song play back.

“We’re perfect.” Tina watches herself in an awe that mirrors Blaine’s own. “I wanted to make sure it wasn’t all in my mind.”

Blaine’s filter doesn’t stop him from asking, "You wouldn't rather have Cooper?"

She pauses long enough to side-eye him. "Blainey-Days, is our entire friendship based on letting the other fish for compliments?" 

"Don't question it when it's my turn." 

“We both deserve a turn. All I’ve wanted this entire time is to finally have my turn, instead of being dismissed and shoved to the side yet again. Like _always_.”

"At least it'll exist in Artie’s film," Blaine says as the only comfort he can imagine she'll accept. “Right, Artie? You can do something with this. It won’t have the same distribution, but someone will see it.”

Tina doesn't quite seem to hear him. She makes the video play again from the beginning.


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine doesn't believe his role won't be taken away from him until he sees himself in his dressing room mirror. He gives the mirror a smug smile and he looks so much more like himself for a second that he startles. He made it. In less than an hour he’ll be out on stage claiming this part as his own. He’s moments away from all he’s worked for.

He snaps a quick picture to send to Kurt.

**Blaine:** _So close!_ _(7:16 PM)_

**Kurt:** _So handsome! (7:16 PM)_

**Blaine:** _So indulgent. (7:16 PM)_

**Kurt:** _Making sure you don’t have a single doubt before your big debut because I know FOR A FACT that you’ll be amazing (7:18 PM)_

Blaine feels good. He sees himself in Lieutenant Cable’s reflection and doesn’t feel out of place. Despite all the drama to get them there, the clothes are perfect for him. He daydreams for a moment about the best possible scenario – he steals a little time in the press from his substantially more famous costars with praise for his breakout role. That a few lines in a story that isn't about him still take time to sing his praises and spark interest in what he'll do next. That this is the single performance that launches a career. 

It’s all so close to becoming real. Later this very evening, he'll try not to wait too anxiously for the reviews, stage a reinvented version of _South Pacific_ in the hotel lobby where Liat sings and Cable lives if Tina still needs cheering about getting stuck with an outdated plot, and get ready to go home to New York with Kurt. Kurt will fly out in the morning so he won't have to miss another show. Blaine hasn't officially decided if he's leaving Los Angeles earlier than originally planned, but staying any longer, even with the promise of auditions, doesn't has nearly as much sway as going where his support network goes. He has loved their hotel room, but he doesn’t want to stay in it alone, and staying with Cooper is no longer a possibility.

Blaine works more gel into his hair. He starts to look even more like the part once it’s as tightly controlled as he used to be. He reaches for the stage makeup next.

"Yo, what did I tell you about the blush?" Artie jokes as he pushes the door to Blaine’s dressing room open. 

Cooper darts inside and shuts the door in Artie’s face. 

Blaine startles at them both. The makeup brush tumbles from his fingers. From the other side of the door, Artie knocks to be let in, but Cooper uses all his weigh to keep the door shut.

“We should talk,” Cooper says nonchalantly.

“Did Tina put you up to this?” Blaine’s voice is mild. He hasn’t made up his mind on forgiving Cooper. He wants to leave it as an option to himself, but not an obligation. Which means not immediately kicking Cooper out of his dressing room, but he’s open to the idea.

Cooper tugs the vanity away from Blaine and shoves it in front of the door. “I want us to talk and I want you to know I’m sincere, so no cameras. Artie will appreciate the grandness of the gesture once he stops mourning the loss of the cinematic moment. Did you hear about the food poisoning?”

“Dammit, Cooper!” Artie yells through the blocked door. “Don’t keep me from the best stuff!”

“Please tell me you didn’t poison the cast and that you’re avoiding admitting it on camera.” Blaine scoots his stool closer to his stolen vanity and busies himself with the blush. It’s the perfect excuse to not have to look at Cooper.

Cooper’s grin is too wide to be completely real. “You’re so funny. Haha. So, so… for the record, little bro, _I_ completely respect your choice to make Lieutenant Cable look like a painted whore, no matter what Artie might… no, nope, nope, I can’t. This is sabotage. How do you not know how makeup works?”

Blaine blinks at him. “Um.” If Cooper is willing to stoop to food poisoning, makeup sabotage won't be a moral issue for him.

Cooper spins Blaine around in his seat. “I’ve got this. Let me make it so you’re just a whore close up.”

Cooper tilts Blaine’s head how he wants it and slaps Blaine’s hand away when he tries to help. Blaine lets him. He always lets him.

“I want cheekbones,” Blaine tells him. His face is too soft.

“She knew what your face looked like when she hired you.” Cooper pats his cheek. Blaine flinches. “Relax, I’m not sabotaging you. I’m keeping you from sabotaging you. Because I care.”

“What about the food poisoning?” Blaine is scared to even ask.

“Totally not my fault. After a few drinks and a night on the town to pre-celebrate tonight’s show, the sailors got excited about one of their last chances to eat LA street food. And then recreated _On The Town_. Like, literally. Nonsensical song and dance numbers and everything, including the ending where everyone goes back to where they started the evening but is worse off for it. Anyway, long story short, being slightly less than one half of a boring old married couple never felt so good, huh? Bet you’re glad you skipped out.”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “Tell me Nellie is okay.”

“Food poisoning could never affect a musical goddess,” Cooper promises.

“Thank god.”

“May Hopkins offered me a spot as one of the sailors to replace the guy currently puking his guys out. Billis, actually. I’d be Billis. I guess I've been around enough to convince her I was her best option and I’m _at least_ equally famous. Her one condition was no drama though, so you've got to be cool with it.” 

_Be cool with it._ Blaine purses his lips. He wants to say no out of spite. See how Cooper likes it when Blaine keeps something from him. It’s a petty thought, but it’s the first one that comes to mind. At least the pettiness would be poetic.

Cooper’s brow knits. “You’re actually thinking about it?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Whatever you feel moved to say.” A beat later, Cooper’s patience runs out and he whines, “C'mon, I'm asking nicely. Don't let this well-timed food poisoning go to waste!"

"I can't control what you do." It frustrates Blaine to no end. Cooper is always out of his control. His own personal hurricane. Cooper does what he wants, and Blaine does what he thinks will makes others happy, and of course the combination is a disaster.

"You kind of really do here, okay?”

Blaine looks away. Blaine’s fantasy of the tables turning for them is ruined by guilt. Even hypothetically, he can't enjoy it the way he wants. Revenge has never been his style.

"Has anyone told you you're good at looking sad?" Cooper asks. "It’s like your gift. If I actually got your part over you, I’d feel…super shitty. I feel awful about it and it didn't even work out for me. It didn’t seem like such a dick move until I saw how sad-diva you were about it. You know how I am about consequences; they don’t matter until they’re looking me right in the face. I wasn’t thinking right.”

“No, you weren’t.” Blaine takes satisfaction in the acknowledgment.

“Before you make a decision, I’d like to read you something you wrote.”

Blaine’s protest when Cooper snatches up Blaine’s playbill dies on his lips. He can’t fight everything.

Cooper turns into his dramatic reading of the playbill. _“‘Blaine Anderson hails from New York City. Favorite roles include Tony in West Side Story and the title role in Pippin.’_ ”Cooper interrupts himself to ask, “Pippin? Really? Okay, skipping ahead because that’s not the point. _‘Blaine’s debut to the stage as Jerome in his brother’s high school production of South Pacific makes tonight a full circle moment. Thanks to Kurt, Tina, Mercedes, and Rachel for the support, and Cooper for getting him his start.’”_

“It was too late to retract it. The playbills were already printed.” Blaine asked and they said no. He can’t just erase his thanks to Cooper.

Cooper spindles a playbill in his hands. “I want you to thank me for the support,too.”

Blaine huffs his annoyance and repeats, “It’s too late to print a retraction.” Like he would.

“No, I mean, I got you your start, but I want to support you, too. I want a real-life do-over.”

Blaine closes his eyes. They may be the words he wants, but he isn’t ready to believe.

“I’m sorry, okay? You’re supposed to be 10 years behind and instead you’re singing in front of thousands of casting agents and directors, and every obstacle that’s supposed to be in your way doesn’t seem to stand a chance. I got a little intense about the competition.”

Blaine snorts.

Cooper tears out Blaine’s bio from the playbill in response.

“Cooper, that’s _mine._ ” Blaine is half-weary, half-indignant.

“There are thousands of these lying around; we’ll get you another. Let me make my point.” Cooper produces Blaine’s handmade _South Pacific_ scrapbook from his satchel and plunks it down on the vanity. The same scrapbook he tore apart to take only the pictures useful for proving to Blaine’s director how well-suited for Blaine’s role Cooper was.

“Ta-da! Full circle moment times two! I patched this old thing up. Good as new and full of memories. And I borrowed a polaroid camera just for this moment, so get in here and say ‘brothers!’”

Cooper spins Blaine again to face the mirror, but Blaine puts his feet down and stops mid-spin.

“I don’t want to make a big moment with cloying metaphors, Coop. that won’t help. I just want to talk. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“Core wounds?”

“Anything real. Like… I don’t know. Why are we even brothers?”

“Well, you see, once up a time our mom…”

Blaine crosses his arms. “Why do we _want_ to be? We don’t have to be anymore. We can both just move on.”

“Hey. We have some good times. It’s not all about taking each other’s stuff.”

“You taking my stuff.”

“That one,” Cooper admits. “It’s not just that. We like hanging out together.”

Blaine keeps on regarding him skeptically. “You shut me down every time I tried to spend time with you.”

“Well, yeah, but just so I’d feel less bad when I took your role!” Cooper bites his lip and tries again. “But we could’ve had fun. We still can. You haven’t left.”

Blaine wants to let himself be convinced. He isn’t.

“Fine. You want to know? You want core wounds? The deep, dark, terrible stuff you should never, ever admit? I was worse than not thinking right. You want why I tried to take your part?” He pauses dramatically. “I found a gray hair.”

Blaine knows how much Cooper’s hair means to him, which is how, despite his jaw threatening to drop, Blaine’s next words come out, "I'm sorry?" 

"I plucked that sucker right out, but more are coming, _like winter_ , and if I keep plucking then the fullness loses its magic." Cooper’s eyes are wild.

"Not for a long time." 

"I'll be an actor who dyes his hair." 

"Gray hair works out great for Anderson Cooper," Blaine soothes. 

Cooper pulls a face. “I don’t want to read the _news_. That’s for people who are pretty but have no talent, and they actually encourage you to get old there. Well, if you’re a dude.”

“You have plenty of time.”

"It’s running out and we’re both deluding me to say otherwise. People get credit scores from card companies now instead of random-ass websites like mine, and commercials don't go into syndication or even get put on 'best of' DVDs, and that's the best thing I've done. I'm literally a relic of the past if I don't latch onto something new. I'll be like the Vikings!"

"Um, Vikings didn't go extinct..." Blaine starts to correct.

"The _What's in Your Wallet_ Vikings!" Cooper scoffs like Blaine should know better. "Where's Sven now? Pillaging estate sales for last century’s styles because his services are no longer needed. You can’t let me get that low.”

Blaine toys with the sleeve of his uniform. “What are you going to do to me when you get your first wrinkle?”

“You shut your mouth!” Cooper emphatically points.

“What about the next time I get something you want?” Blaine sighs before Cooper can answer. “Cooper. I want you to do well. I want to be jealous of you sometimes, even. But this can’t just work one way, where I’m happy for you and a _gray hair_ is all the justification you need to make me miserable. Are you only being nice to me right now because you want something?”

“I can’t… really prove… I don’t know.” Cooper leans against the vanity blocking the door. He’s at a rare loss for words. “I know it was shitty. I said that. I don’t know what to offer except a chance to try again. And I promise to actually try.”

Blaine looks down at his poorly-repaired scrapbook. “I’d like that.”

“Really?”

"I'm not going to keep you from something you want." Blaine won’t be the problem in their relationship. 

"It's not even a good part; Billis could just as easily be played by someone ugly. You saw the guy who had the part before."

"Cooper!" Blaine shakes his head, not without fondness, at his brother.

"Not that I’ll play him ugly, of course. Beautiful people can be fools,too.”

Blaine bites his lip to hold in his laugh. “I already said yes. It’s okay.”

“But, like, really? That’s not just a thing you’re saying but don’t mean, like ‘I’m fine’ and ‘we’re good’ and ‘great advice’?”

“ _Really_.” Who know what Cooper will do. It’s out of Blaine’s control. What Blaine decides to do isn’t. “Maybe it’ll be fun? When was the last time we did something like this?”

Cooper drops the mutilated playbill to Blaine’s vanity and holds out his arms. “Get in here. Time for that full circle moment.”

Blaine lets Cooper snap a polaroid for the _South Pacific_ scrapbook after all. They mirror that picture from all those years ago – Blaine in front, Cooper standing proudly behind him, just like in Cooper’s high school version. And it’s cloying and too simplistic given all they still have to work through, but Blaine likes to think it means something anyway.

***

Cooper’s histrionics suit the role. He gets his share of laughs from the audience. He doesn’t play Billis the way May had directed the previous actor, but it works. When it comes time for Billis’ reprise of “Balli Hai,” he points dramatically to the unseen island and coaxes Cable to mimic him. Blaine wants to laugh but stays in character and plays along.

Blaine’s favorite moments on stage, however, are his interactions with Tina. His fondness towards his best friend makes acting easy. He doesn't have to act out his admiration for how much life she breathes into a role that could fade into the background. He’s overjoyed when their first scene together comes. But something is off. Blaine realizes halfway through Cable and Liat’s stilted conversation. She’s more hesitant than usual. She shakes when he asks if she’s afraid, even as she says “ _no_ ,” and Blaine has never seen Tina make that acting choice before. It doesn’t seem like a choice she would make.

In their fade to black, when the audience can’t see, Blaine holds her for a beat longer than usual in the dark, searching for a response. She doesn’t let him catch her eye until the lights are back up and he begins the song they rehearsed together dozens of times, both traditionally and the way she imagined it into being.

Tina joins in with the sweet and understated backup harmonies she arranged. A few murmurs are loud enough to reach the stage. They have everyone’s attention.

In a fraction of a second, four issues tumble through Blaine’s mind: 1) May Hopkins will be furious, 2) likely at him; 3) he admires Tina’s guts anyway, and 4) he has to do something. He has to do something immediately. Worries about consequences are put on hold. He remembers how they rehearsed their version and soldiers on.

She has a lovely voice. Always has.

In the periphery of his vision he sees June Dalloway’s head in her hands. He also sees Rachel tap insistently on Mercedes’ arm in case Mercedes somehow might miss what they're doing. Kurt is perfectly still.

Tina smiles more sweetly than she ever has in rehearsals when she reaches the lines where she takes the lead. Blaine is sure the smile is Tina’s, not just Liat’s.

“ _And when –_ ” 

Tina’s microphone cuts out. More accurately, someone cuts it. Without time to think, Blaine forgoes his blocking and pulls her into his arms, close enough for the mic hidden in his smoothed down curls to pick her up. He pulls her hand to his cheek and guides her into knocking his mic askew, closer to her. 

Liat and Cable have to cling to each other more desperately than rehearsed for them both to be heard. Their noses nudge. Her voice comes through while they list everything they are to each other. The song that has become a standard forces the audience to listen like it’s new.

Tina’s grin could be Liat’s delight at the lovers’ union, but Blaine suspects it's for finishing a song. 

***

Blaine mouths “ _oh my god_ ” but won’t let the words escape as he catches up with Tina in the wings. He won’t speak while the performance is still going on onstage – a blessing when he doesn’t know where to begin.

“Did you see that?” Tina’s excited whisper is loud enough to make him nervous.

Blaine opens his arms. If he focuses, he can make his breathing match Tina’s and they can slow each other down.

Cooper finds them and invites himself into the hug. He loops one arm over Blaine’s shoulders and one over Tina’s. "You kids crushed it.”

Adrenaline gives way to anxiety. They pulled off Tina’s song, but there will be consequences.

“You didn’t tell me.” As soon as the theatre lights come back on for intermission, the words are out. The accusation, because Blaine does feel a little betrayed. They could have made a plan. He could have been prepared.

Tina glances over her shoulder for the livid director they both know is coming. “You get a guilty look if you even think of doing something wrong. You look guilty right now.”

“You told Cooper.” It’s not a question. He can tell. Cooper has that co-conspirator look Blaine rarely earns. “What if I hadn’t done the duet with you? Was he waiting in the wings to come out and take my place?”

“That would be a silly thing for Billis to do,” Tina reassures. 

Blaine huffs.

“If I didn’t trust you, I would’ve had to let you know so I could blackmail you into it. This is trust! I knew you’d play along, and now it’s not your fault.”

The words are barely out of her mouth when all three turn at the sound of, “What the hell, Chang? Are also you going to come out at the end and tell us he doesn’t die?”

“It’s Tina Cohen-Chang!”

"I didn't ask for a duet. I explicitly told you not to do a duet."

"We're both sorry," Blaine says for her. May looks livid and getting between them may be a terrible idea, but Blaine will feel far worse if he doesn’t.

May ignores Blaine. "I asked for a professional. How hard is it to screw up saying nothing?”

“The audience seemed to like it.” Tina’s voice is steady.

"The audience isn’t going to hire you. One more misspoken line and I'll make sure there's not a community theatre that will hire you. Your career will be over, and even those crappy non-budget independent movies of yours will be too good for you."

Blaine gets chills and he’s not even the one being scolded.

Tina’s composed façade drops as soon as the director is gone. She throws herself at Blaine. He catches her with practiced ease. Cooper joins the hug from behind, and Blaine is about to tell him off for making the moment about him when Tina transfers her clinging and leaves Blaine’s arms empty.

"Hey, you got your moment," Blaine soothes. He lingers in case he'll be needed again. "It could've been so, so much worse."

Cooper shushes him. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." 

"Goodbye, professional career." She sniffs loudly.

"It could be worse. Cooper has ruined double, probably _triple_ that in a single day. He still finds work somehow." Blaine rubs her back and gives Cooper a pleading look to play along.

"Absolutely. And at least it’s only a one-night engagement. One-night is my favorite kind of engagement for just that reason,” Cooper says. “That's the beauty of commercials - 30 seconds of screen time is just short enough to keep me out of trouble. I learned my lesson on 60s.”

Tina sniffs into Cooper’s costume. "It must be bad if Cooper just told a joke at his own expense."

Cooper looks up in alarm. "Is this what love is?"

"Personal growth, at least." Blaine smiles to soften the joke. Blaine feels like he's seeing a completely different person his brother is capable of being with how Cooper cares for Tina. He's envious and proud to see what Cooper is capable of, even if it's not for his sake. 

“Five minutes,” Jake Puckerman warns them, shaking his head as he moves away before he can get sucked into their drama.

"If you want to seem happy in this next scene, just remember how kickass you were. Patti LuPone would be jealous of that diva fit,” Cooper says. “Go make Patti LuPone even prouder and get on with the show.”

At those words of encouragement, Tina pulls herself together to finish the second act.

***

Blaine has no clue how Kurt gets out of his seat and backstage so quickly. He sprints over and has Blaine in his arms when Blaine is still reeling from the curtain call.

“Is this what you haven’t been telling me?” Kurt nods toward to stage Blaine just left, looking ready to gossip.

“I’m not keeping you in the dark as much as you think!” Blaine looks over Kurt’s shoulder for Tina amongst the rush of cast a crew getting ready the set to be struck and costumes returned. He lowers his voice. “You have to know I didn’t see that coming.”

“The song, or the new costar?”

“We, um, shouldn’t talk here.” He can’t imagine May wants them to stick around, and he doesn’t want her to overhear new ways for her to be displeased with him and Tina. He steers Kurt toward the dressing room. At least Kurt acts as a buffer for the cast members dying to hear Blaine’s explanation of what happened out on that stage. They know they can’t compete. He guides Kurt into place outside his door. “Keep an eye out for Tina, please.”

“I don’t get to come? I’m good at helping you undress.” Kurt sways cutely.

Blaine smiles and shakes his head. “Moving quickly, Kurt. Pretty sure you can’t behave around costume changes.”

He slips inside. In the quiet stillness of his dressing room, Blaine counts down from five before he loosens the hold the gels has on his hair and fits back into the trappings of the twenty-first century.

From the other side of the door, Kurt calls, “Help me feel less in the dark?”

“Later,” Blaine calls back.

“If you really trust me not to meddle, you have to trust me with the good, juicy gossip.”

“Time and place, Kurt.”

“I only get to know when you’re done with the fallout? I can keep a secret, you know. They’re hard to ruin from 3,000 miles away. Is this why you’ve been so weird? You could’ve just told me you didn’t want my opinion.”

Blaine opens the door and watches Kurt startle at the suddenness of his reemergence. “Cooper came by and apologized for trying to steal my role. All of my weirdness can be chalked up to Cooper trying to steal my role, and not to the things I knew nothing about, which is a much longer list. I’m not keeping anything else from you.”

“Like how he weasled his way into someone else’s role.” Kurt’s eyebrow arches.

“That was awfully convenient for him,” Blaine admits. “But…”

“But you’re good at forgiving.”

“Too good?” As mad as he was, he’s willing to let it go as long as he believes Cooper is sincere.

“Too good at a lot of things, but I won’t hold that against you.” Kurt kisses Blaine’s cheek.

Blaine links their arms and tucks the mended scrapbook into his side as they duck out.

***

By the time Blaine has changed, their friends have arranged everything. They decide against going to the cast's after party lest they be thrown out, and pick a nearby bar to go to instead. The hardest part for Blaine is turning down the opportunity to see his idol one last time. 

Tina wipes at her eyes with the tissue Blaine produces. “I don’t know why I’m upset. It’s not like I didn't know she would be mad. I understand how consequences work. It was too tempting to resist. We had that dress rehearsal after the real dress rehearsal, and it was perfect. She’s not real, but I couldn’t stand not giving her a voice." 

“I get it,” Blaine says.

“You had all these plans for how perfect your debut would be. And now…”

Now he’s an _accomplice_ to musical theatre mutiny. That might be serious, even if it sounds ridiculous. Those few lines about him in the press will be different than he dreamed. He won’t know how far the professional consequences will ripple for either of them.

“I’m not as disappointed as you think,” Blaine promises and finds he means it, at least for the moment. It wasn't perfect like he planned, but he managed to do the best he could. The rest is out of his control.

“Do you think I ruined everything?”

“I don’t even think you think that.” Blaine rarely sees Tina uncertain. He looks to Cooper for support.

"The only reason to cry at a party is if you’re not getting enough attention. We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen," Cooper says comfortingly as they enter the same bar in which Blaine and Cooper caused their scene just days before. Mercedes and Rachel are there to greet them, as are Artie and his camera team. Tina’s smile wobbles through the chorus of congratulations or condolences.

“You came,” Blaine observes when he sees Jake among the mix of supportive friends.

“Well, Tina warned me off the street food, so I actually went out on stage today. As bad of an idea as associating with you two seems, I’ll take my chances being on your side.”

Blaine throws a glance to Tina. “The food poisoning was an accident.”

Jake snorts and shakes his head as he mixes into the crowd.

Blaine turns to Kurt. “Tell me I shouldn't delude myself into thinking Tina is some diabolical mastermind just because some guy she had a grudge against for calling her theatrical got food poisoning and her boyfriend got the role instead.”

Kurt doesn’t look convinced as he drawls, “Completely coincidental.”

"Oh, Tina, is it wrong to say I'm proud? I'm in no way advocating for ruining your career like that, but I am impressed." Rachel hugs Tina tightly in greeting. 

"No one's career is ruined for good. You've burned better bridges than that," Mercedes reminds her.

"Proudly,” Rachel agrees. “So you might want to take a break from live theatre for a bit and try other work. There is other work."

Mercedes side-eyes Rachel before saying to Tina, "Don't believe anyone who says they can ruin your life. Not forever. You’ll be okay." 

Artie beckons Rachel and Mercedes over, speaking in hushed tones Blaine can’t make out, and Tina reaches for another tissue. "Maybe I'll go into hiding for a few months. That worked for Rachel." 

“I know somewhere you could stay.” Cooper tilts his head and smiles until he’s certain Tina sees.

“No one goes to Hollywood when they don’t want to be found.”

“Who’s ever serious about not wanting to be found? That’s just what you say so people are still excited to see you. It's a classic trick. We'll get you some big hats and sunglasses you can take off dramatically." 

At the reminder of the online conversation that could be beginning about their performance right now, Blaine toys with his phone before giving into the temptation to google his own name.

Tina stops Blaine from searching any further past the first few high school and college theatre articles he already knows about by tearfully asking, "Is the Internet talking about me yet?"

Blaine takes her phone away. "Let's not find out." 

"Not even the Asian Internet?" 

"I'll check Disgrasian once you've sobered up."

Tina’s face falls. "You think I'm _Disgrasian_?!"

"No, Tay Tay, they say nice things, too!" He reassures as fast as he can. “It could be nice.”

“I have to know, don’t I? Ugh, it’s going to be awful. Everyone’s going to say my career is over. I killed it. It barely lived!”

Artie holds up his hands for their attention. "Attention, everyone! Is everyone accounted for? We are gathered here today to pour one out for Tina’s career’s untimely death. Rachel, Mercedes, would you do the honors?”

Artie gestures for Rachel to begin.

“More candles please.” Rachel snaps her fingers imperiously. “I have a mood to create.”

Blaine groans, “Oh my god,” and watches through fingers as Madison and Mason snatch tea lights from the nearby tables.

Mercedes makes sure all attention is on her. She clears her throat. "The critics would like to say a few words.” 

"What happened to our hermetically sealed bubble of love we had for Rachel?" Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, that. I deserve a bubble of love, too.”

"Don't you want a eulogy? A diagnosis of the cause of death? You gotta know how you died," Artie says.

"Confront the worst of it head on," Rachel encourages. "You won't have to be afraid of finding out once you know. It's an easier way to obsess. This isn’t something you have to stay ignorant on. You're going to look. You know it's out there. Either this happens here, with friends who love and support you, or at 3 AM alone when you might convince yourself to take a word of it to heart."

“We’re all here for you right now,” Mercedes says.

Tina nods her permission.

_“_ Let’s see how Tina managed to make herself the talk of the night in a show meant to be about a star. It's too early for real press reviews, and we had to look really hard, since it seems the majority of everyone who saw you didn't care enough to say anything about it in the hour or so that’s passed, but but we scrapped the bottom barrel of Internet comments, and five pages deep into the _South Pacific_ hashtag, we found, ‘ _Liat is thirsty for the d.’_ I can’t tell if this is good or bad, actually, but it was retweeted twice,” Mercedes says.

"From that same thread we have ‘ _who cares no one is watching for them anyway_ ,’ which isn't really about your artistic choices, but there you go,” Rachel adds.

"Broadway trolls, really? We care what Broadway trolls have to say?" Artie may have his predictably insensitive moments, but Blaine can't believe Mercedes and Rachel are helping Artie with this. 

_“‘Blaine Anderson is perhaps too flamboyant, treating Liat with the gentle reverence of a dear friend instead of exotic lover,’”_ Artie says next. _“_ Although my personal favorite is a comment on page 4 of a Broadway World forum: ‘ _There’s a time and a place for colorblind casting, and it’s dumb as rocks to stage_ South Pacific _’s interracial romance with a part Asian Lieutenant Cable.’”_

Kurt looks murderous.

“‘ _Cooper Anderson is too handsome and charming to believably play a comedic character_. _Why Nellie doesn't run off with him over the crusty old Frenchman is lost on me.’_ See, we all have flaws,” Cooper soothes. “I have burdens,too.”

“Did you write both of those?” Blaine asks.

“No infighting!” Artie insists. "Tina, you're not mentioned in this one at all, but there's ‘ _Younger Than_ _Springtime’_ _nearly ruins the entire show. The nonsensical duet is everything wrong with revivals that ta_ _ke liberties with the original work._ ’ I think you can take that bit of pretentiousness to heart,” Artie says.

Rachel continues the eulogy with the clink of her glass to bring everyone’s attention back to her. “There are some things you never come back from. Tina’s poor career was asked to withstand too much. No one here has ever burnt a bridge to get what they wanted.”

"And not accepting a sour deal that makes you something you don't want to be means kissing your one opportunity goodbye," Mercedes adds with a put-upon shake of her head. 

“No one who’s been torn down on the internet keeps on being awesome. If you’re not universally adored, that's it for you.” Rachel nudges Blaine. "No one gets second chances."

"Or third chances," Kurt adds. He squeezes Blaine’s hand. 

Cooper butts in with, “Or wishes they handled getting what they wanted more gracefully.”

Blaine catches on. Tina does, too. Her wobbling smile grows steadier while she touches a hand to her heart. 

“Okay, let’s do this toast for real.” Mercedes raises her glass. "May the bridges you burn light your way to something better. Wherever you go next on your journey, we'll be there to support you, too." 

Glasses clink loudly. Tina joins the toast with clear eyes.

“Do you want to hear the good stuff now?” Rachel waggles her phone, the open webpage blurring with it.

“There’s good stuff?” Tina lights up. She tosses her latest tissue away.

“Some people think it's clever. Some people think you’re hot. Most people had nothing to say about you at all, but I think there’s one you’ll really like.” Rachel beckons Tina close enough to see her phone screen. “A certain famous someone in the show had something to say on their verified twitter account.”

Blaine doesn’t have to ask which costar. He just holds his breath.

Rachel reads aloud for them. “‘ _Thank you, Los Angeles! LOVED tonight. Hashtag South Pacific in LA.’_ Which really just provides the context for the follow-up tweet says, _‘How great was that duet? I can’t wait for everyone to see these two when we hit PBS!’_ And there’s a picture! A cute one, which is important. Blaine only looks a little like he’s going to faint.”

Tina pulls the phone closer. “Is this real?”

Blaine angles to look over both their shoulders. “She – she liked our song? She acknowledged it existed? Tina, that’s amazing!”

Below the tweet is a picture of Tina and Blaine at rehearsal, both looking starstuck on either side of his idol whose name he couldn't speak aloud through his excitement even if Artie hadn't banned its use given legal considerations. 

Tina continues to gape. “ _70 million_ people saw this?"

"I don't think they all check her twitter every day, but they could see it!" Rachel grins proudly.

Tina clutches Rachel’s phone to her heart. “Today is the best day.”

“They could still all hate it when they see it. _If_ they see it,” Rachel warns. “Just because Artie and Mercedes and I only found a few negative comments doesn’t mean more aren’t coming.”

“I don’t even care right now!”

Mercedes settles across the table from Tina and slides a drink toward her. “Can I ask the scary question of what comes next?”

“Time to find a new job, and quick. This can’t be the only thing that defines me,” Tina says with renewed determination.

Blaine nods his understanding.Finding a follow-up project will be important for them both.

“Especially since this documentary is on its way.” Artie pats his camera. “Thanks for finally making it interesting, by the way.”

There's still the PBS deal as well, and who knows how that'll be handled. More press will come. If they're lucky, so will more opportunities that look at their resumes and want to know about the experience. It’s a lot to think about, but Blaine is distracted by one thought as he looks around the tightly packed table of friends. “Did everyone know but me?”

Rachel and Mercedes have the sense to look sheepish.

“No one tells me anything either.” Kurt pats Blaine’s arm.

"For Rachel and me, it was more of a hint than anything,” Mercedes says. “Pretty sure the newbies had it figured out, though.”

“You two were in your own little bubble even before Kurt got here. And then you didn’t pick up your phone and it seemed for the best,” Tina says. “You wanted your perfect theatrical debut that Cooper was already threatening before factoring in what I wanted.”

Cooper directs his attention to Artie and his cameras. “Is it too soon to talk spinoff project? Perhaps one that paints me in a better light? I have some ideas that will make you want to stick around. They are going to blow. Your. Mind. Webisodes are far more lucrative than movies these days," Cooper winks. 

"That's not..." Blaine cuts himself off from correcting Cooper with a smile. "A bad idea. I’m sure Artie would love to hear about it." 

"I think I might stay for a while. You'd think I'd find all the sun off-putting but it's nice. I think I like LA being so bright all the time." Tina smiles. "That, and one of these days, I'm going to be the one calling the shots. I hear directing is a big deal here." 

Cooper beams.

“Plus, if I leave too soon, it’ll feel like running away.”

Blaine looks down. That sounds familiar.

"Which means I’m skipping my flight home. I guess I'll know where to find you?" Tina asks Blaine.

Blaine feels a twinge of sadness. “Yeah.”

“What are you talking about? Blaine’s staying,” Cooper says. “We’re making up for lost time. That was part of our deal. Second chances, right? Whatever we did wrong we'll get better this time. _I'll_ get better." 

“Are you still thinking of changing your flight?” Kurt asks, his voice neutral.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Before the show, Blaine was leaning toward heading home. He fantasized about it. Add in his stunt with Tina, and leaving the city should seem like the obvious choice. “If I leave tomorrow, I can get on the same flight as you and be home by this time tomorrow even with the time change. I just have to accept that this is the end.”

“You’re supposed to be here for three more days,” Cooper insists. “You made me put it in my calendar.”

“I _could_ leave.”

“But it’ll be so easy to stay. You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got that spare room still. You’re welcome to it.” Cooper offers, so eager to please that Blaine can’t turn him down. “Aaaaand I know some industry people who wouldn’t mind meeting little bro. As long as we keep the emphasis on little, _not_ younger. If you want to work in LA again, now is the time to figure out how.”

Blaine glances sideways at Kurt. He came all this way, through weeks of work and distance and worry, and he doesn't want to sell himself short by giving up. He invites Kurt’s opinion with a silent tilt of his head. 

“I’m not supposed to decide for you,” Kurt responds.

“Where I find work affects both of us. I’m not the only one who had a hard time while we were apart.”

"Of course I missed you, but we managed like perfectly reasonable adults, didn't we? Mostly? It's not like you disappeared from my life, Blaine. You've worked your way into every part of it. Three thousand miles doesn't change that. Don’t sign a seven-year contract to a TV show without talking to me first. Anything else we can handle as it comes." 

“A few more days would be nice,” Blaine admits.

“We can catch up on everything we meant to do. I never took you to the Walk of Fame, did I? You had that list of yours on what you wanted to do while here. We never even got you those damn cupcakes." 

"Kurt brought me cupcakes." Blaine and Kurt toasted with them the night before in their hotel room. They had a private pre-show party all of their own. It only felt a little sad to be the only ones there.

"That doesn't mean they're the same," Cooper argues. 

“Ooh, cupcakes sound way better than drinking. Can we do that?” Tina asks. “Like right now? How late is too late for cupcakes?”

“Not that it _has_ to be cupcakes. You had a long list, and it’s a big city. You’re not going to be here that long, so we should make it count, even if that’s something boring like a museum, although you can’t do that now…”

Blaine almost lets Cooper keep rambling the possibilities, but they have somewhere else to be. “It’s not too late. Let’s go.”

Blaine signals for the check. Their party finishes or abandons their drinks, piles together enough bills to tip generously, gathers their coats, and bundles back up to head out into the night where even more possibilities await.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of our journey! This has been a months-long labor of love. Thank you for reading, commenting, and telling your friends if you liked it. All of the support has been much appreciated.


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